Just Another Routine
by tikea
Summary: newy's up! r/r as you please-- You ever think life's just another routine? That's life for Reem. Well, until that routine-chain breaks and it isn't all fun and games...
1. Chap 1

AN: The Tortall characters from Tammy's books in this story don't belong to me, the known ones that is, the new ones are from my own imagination and copyright :) Enjoy!! Please don't flame me too much, I'm new at this and quite shy :P  
  
  
  
I can remember the first time I held a Tamora Pierce book in my hand. It had been the first book of the Song of the Lioness series, and I had been far from excited. My sister had recommended it to me; and me, hater of books back then when I was only around ten or eleven, was far too bored. So I read the book.  
  
From then on I grew to love the style and world of Tamora Pierce; I loved Alanna with her fiery and independent spirit, Daine with her calm character and respect for animals, Tris for her own different personality and for reminding me of me. All those characters were bright, intelligent and independent women, set out to do what they wanted. And they succeeded. They felt real. They were fantasy-characters, made up, but the characters were real; none of those unrealistic, magical characters that I found so boring and silly in other fantasy books, they were three-dimensional characters.  
  
With Tamora Pierce's characters, I was Daine, changing into a wolf. I was Alanna fighting Ralon. I was Tris, stubborn and intent on doing what she wanted.  
  
That was why I devoted my reading time to everything Tammy. She, Tammy, had touched me with her writing deep in the heart, she'd got me reading and writing stories. She'd opened up a whole other world for me to escape to if I felt overcrowded in real life. That 'other' world was open, night and day, twenty-four seven, seven days a week. It didn't reject me because of where I was from, who I was and who I hung around with. Or even what I dressed like, what I ate and how I walked and talked.  
  
In that world I was free to do what I wanted; I could journey with Alanna in the desert; I could defeat Ozorne along with Daine; I could find out the truth about Aymery with Tris. I could change it all to suit me and no one could stop me. I was free. Free to do whatever I wanted. The only way anyone could stop me was to snap me back into real life, which teachers always did when I drifted off in class, dreaming that the King of Tortall was knighting me.  
  
'Why must you always do that in my class, Reem?' the teachers would always ask, while the class snickered.  
  
Shrugging, I held up my chin with pride. 'I suppose you're not as interesting a teacher as you would of liked to be,' I replied evenly, eyeing the teacher with a challenging twinkle in my eye.  
  
I was like that; I loved to challenge people, get them worked up and while they're busy yelling at me stupidly, I could look into their angry eyes and tell how they really felt and how they thought. I could always do that, since I was a little girl. I could tell what everyone thought and how they felt. It was weird, but I got used to it.  
  
So anyway, it was a Monday morning (Mondays are always bad luck for me) and I was packing my things in my locker when my friend, Khalil, came up to me with an angry, irritated look in his face. I could have just peered into his thoughts, but he was a very close friend and I respected his privacy too much to steal thoughts from him.  
  
'What's up?' I said, closing the door to my locker and setting the heavy bag of mine on the ground as I leant against the locker.  
  
'You'll never guess!' Khalil exclaimed, his beautiful brown eyes squinting with rage and his chin set stubbornly as he clenched his teeth.  
  
Smiling, I folded my arms over my chest. 'Marlaine embarrass you in class again?'  
  
He nodded, punching the locker with his fist 'She won't leave me alone! I told her over and over that we are over, but her brain has a low level of intelligent, and even that low intelligence can't support her, so her brain has gone on strike for being misused.'  
  
I carried my bag over my shoulder and sighed. 'You just gotta make her realize that you want absolutely nothing to do with her. I don't even know why you ever got with her in the first place. You knew what she was like.' I pointed out.  
  
Making a face, Khalil put his arm around my shoulders and steered me towards the doors. 'Want me to drive you home?' he offered, shrugging away the subject of Marlaine.  
  
I shook my head. 'Nah, I'll take the bus.'  
  
He gave me a stern look. 'You know you shouldn't.'  
  
'I know that. I don't care. I do what I want.' I replied, smiling.  
  
He eyed me uncertainly for a while, but he knew my stubborn ways too much and sighed as he gave me a hug and went over to his car.  
  
As soon as I was out the gates of the school, I sighed with relief. That school made me nervous, I had never fit in and never wanted to. All the students there were too interested in looks, how short a girl's dress was and what makeup a girl puts on each morning.  
  
I wasn't like that, I didn't care what I, or anyone, looked like, let alone how short a skirt was or how much makeup is packed on each morning. The faces of the girls that do put on makeup would give a little girl enough nightmares for a whole month, so that and the fact that I hated anything artificial and unreal, put me off makeup.  
  
The bus arrived and the usual people were on; a few guys from the Catholic Boy's School across the street, men and women out shopping or whatever they did every day and some other school kids.  
  
I sat somewhere in the middle, alone, to the side of the window, where I always sat.  
  
The boys threw snickers from the back as usual, and of course they were aimed at me. I ignored them. I ignored them all the time, but when they got too annoying, I'd turn around, say a smart, sharp remark, and that would shut them up. That was the way the return home each day happened and I didn't care enough to change it. It was a routine and I followed it.  
  
'The Arab needs some cleaning up, mate, don't ya reckon? So dirty. Terrorists need to die and that bitch down there definitely needs to die.'  
  
'Hey, Arab, you need to die, go bomb yourself, we don't need you and your shit!'  
  
'You heard him, get the friggin' hell out of here, Arab scum!'  
  
Resting my head against the window, on the crook of my arm, I stared out at the passer-bys. Most were girls going home from school like me. But they didn't have to put up with this racism. No. They weren't Arabs.  
  
But I loved being an Arab and loved being Lebanese! Damn those idiots, damn them and everything they are. They're too ignorant. Some day they'll wake up and see all the missing pieces in their lives and they'll see how pathetic and useless they are. I don't think they'll be calling me names then!  
  
'Arab! Come over here, I haven't had me a lap dancer in so long!'  
  
I turned around, a dangerous smile on my face. 'I'll take you up on that, bud.'  
  
The guy that had shouted the comment raised an eyebrow, his handsome face breaking into a sneer. 'Really? Then come over here and show me your stuff.'  
  
I got up and dumped my bag on the floor. Walking slowly towards the guy, I heard gasps and muffled comments, as everyone's eyes in the bus turned to look at me. But no one interfered; no, it was none of their business.  
  
I sat on his lap and looked straight into his face. 'I'm an Arab. I'm Lebanese. I may be filth to you hun, but you are the worst filth, the most disgusting creature I've ever come across. Now shut your filthy mouth before I shut it for you.'  
  
He slid his arms around my waist as a nasty grin spread across his face. 'Mm, I can see that happening, Muslim filth.'  
  
I sighed and shook my head. 'Must it always come to this?' I dug my heel into his foot and sent him yelping, his arms slid off my waist and I smiled as I punched his jaw hard, and heard a satisfying crack as I got up, grabbed my bag and laughed; I knew I'd had the timing right, the bus stopped and the doors slid open.  
  
I shot out of the bus and ran as I heard shouts of anger from the bus being called out. 'DAMN YOU, YOU CRAZY BITCH! Next time we see you, you're friggin' dead, YOU HEAR ME?'  
  
I gave them the finger and snickered as the bus drove away, the guys at the back banging on the window at the back and making rude gestures. 


	2. Chap 2

I turned away and walked down the road, left and right till I came to my house.  
  
It was a small house, suited for two people. Me and my mum. That's all there was of our family. My dad had died in a car accident when I had been two and my brother had died three years ago, when I'd been fourteen.  
  
I'd grieved and gotten over it. I looked after my mother now, doing my best to keep her alive and well. After my dad died, she'd drove herself into depression and had shut herself out, as per usual after a death of someone so close to the heart. It had taken her three years to get over it. So three years later, everything was back to normal and the grieving was over and done with, our dad was to live in our hearts forever, just not physically.  
  
But when my brother had died—he'd gotten stabbed and killed after accidentally stumbling onto a druggie near the library—my mother had sunk back into depression, refusing to eat, drinking beer and wine only, never paying attention to anything, leaving me to take care of her, the house, the bills and schools.  
  
I juggled it for a few months, till I collapsed at school from the stress and someone came around to the house, saw the mess of it, saw my mum laughing crazily and drunkenly in her room and had quickly made arrangements for me to move away for a while.  
  
So I'd stayed away for a year at Khalil's house while my mum was 'cured' and had her life 'sorted out' and when I moved back in with her, she was the same, healthy and loving mother she'd been before the deaths of my father and brother. Not exactly the same of course—who would be—but she wasn't the depressed, drunk mum she'd been after the deaths.  
  
'Hey, mum!' I shouted, unlocking the front door and dumped my bag on the sofa in the living room as I made my way to the kitchen for a drink.  
  
'Hey honey! I made some mfaraky, if you want to eat!' she called out from somewhere in the house. Probably the laundry room, she seemed to always be in the laundry room, scrubbing and scrubbing at the clothes, dirty or not. 'It's her form of yoga!' her therapist had said, laughing.  
  
So I ate the mfaraky, which was just boiled potatoes that was fried with eggs and mixed with herbs. It was quite nice, especially with mayo.  
  
After eating, I did my homework and then told my mum I was going out for a walk. I gave her a big hug, as usual (you feel the need to give someone a hug and an 'I love you' before you leave when so many people have died in such a short period of time, just in case), and walked out of the house, my hands in the pockets of my baggy tracksuit pants with the two blue stripes at the side. It was my favourite. I felt relaxed in it.  
  
I crossed the road and looked down at the path, my mind cleared and I felt myself slip into meditation mode—even as I walked. I knew the roads well enough to be blindfolded and make out where I was.  
  
A shout interrupted my meditation.  
  
'Reem!'  
  
I looked back to see Khalil running towards me. I stopped and let him catch up with me.  
  
'Mind if I walk with you?' he asked.  
  
'No,' I replied. 'But I'm gonna be walking for a while.'  
  
'Yeah, all right. Mind if I talk while we walk? Well anyway, Marlaine told me—'  
  
'Marlaine, Marlaine! That's all I've been hearing from you since you guys got together! Either you like her or you don't and obviously, you do! So just go and get back with her or something, coz I'm sick of hearing her name more than twenty times an hour!' I couldn't help myself. It was true. That's all he ever talked about! Marlaine did this, Marlaine said this, and Marlaine is this…  
  
Khalil's eyes narrowed and he glared at me as we walked on. 'That coming from a person who drones on and on and on about Tamora Pierce, Sheroes and Tamora Pierce's books hour after hour? Come on, Reem! Give me a break here!'  
  
'At least what I talk about is interesting, what you talk about is so damn irritating, I have no words to des—'  
  
'Just because you don't like Marlaine doesn't give you the right to—'  
  
'I'll do and say what I want, Khalil! And if you can't live with that, then—'  
  
'Why should I care? I don't even know what to—'  
  
'Khalil!'  
  
I stupidly jumped to the spot where Khalil was; in the middle of roundabout, with a car coming dead-straight at him. He was glued to the spot, his face pale as he watched the car coming fast at us.  
  
I tried to pull him, but he wouldn't budge.  
  
'KHALIL DAMN YOU, GET OUT OF THE WAY!'  
  
Those were the last words before I went flying in the opposite direction of Khalil. I don't know how I landed. But I felt a maddening ringing in my head as I drifted off into unconsciousness; my last few glimpses of real life were of Khalil shuddering and fainting and the sound of a woman's high- pitched scream.  
  
  
  
'By the Goddess!'  
  
'What's happening down there?'  
  
'Very strange indeed!'  
  
'Goddess!'  
  
Groaning, I got up and shielded my eyes from the fierce sun. The luminous light dazzled me and my eyes remained unfocused for a while, until I got used to the brightness. I blinked a few times and looked around nervously.  
  
I jumped when I saw a sword pointed at my neck and a tall figure standing casually in front of me.  
  
'In the name of King Jonathon IV, I arrest you for trespassing on his Majesty's lands and property—'  
  
'Say what?' I shrieked, wanting to get up but also not wanting to be sliced open by the sharp sword dangerously looming at my neck.  
  
I looked up to see an unbelievably handsome, dark and serious face staring down at me. 'You heard me.'  
  
I couldn't believe it!  
  
'King Jonathon? Son of King Roald? Ex-lover of Alanna the Lioness? Husband to Queen Thayet?'  
  
An eyebrow was arched. 'And my father, yes.'  
  
'You're Prince Roald?' I asked dumbly.  
  
'Umm…yes.' He shot a 'help-me' look to his companion before turning back to smile dryly at me. 'If you could please get up and come with us, lady.'  
  
'I think this fella will be coming with us too,' the companion said, pointing at someone near a rock.  
  
'Khalil!' I called out, getting up and getting only a few steps before pain shot through my whole body. My head raced and I groaned as memory flooded back and my head swirled and rang once again. I fell to the floor and once again fainted. 


	3. Chap 3

I woke to a stony-faced old woman who grumpily peered at my face and grunted. 'She's up, can I go now?'  
  
She left and I was left to look around at the old, cracked house that looked to be the inside of a hut. The room was made up of the hard mattress I was lying on, a few cheap rugs sprawled across the floor, a cupboard, a sink, a shelf of books, a table with a vase of flowers and a chair next to the bed.  
  
The Prince was sitting there.  
  
'Well, you're awake then,' he said, smiling.  
  
I was dumbfounded.  
  
I was in the Tammy world! I was in Tortall, something I'd always dreamed. Yet this was real! I won't bother pinching myself just in case I was dreaming.  
  
'Yes,' I said, my throat feeling as crisp as dry bread.  
  
'Are you feeling all right?' he asked. He was too gorgeous for my own sake. Just like I'd imagined Jon.  
  
Jet black hair that you felt you needed to brush back, sparkling, sexy black eyes, tanned skin, strong chin, amazing thin lips and tall and muscular. Yu-my. I was holding myself back really; I mean I could feel that I wasn't wearing my clothes, but a nightgown of a 'lady's' clothes. They felt very uncomfortable.  
  
Suddenly it struck me.  
  
What would I do now? I was in Tortall, I knew only what Tammy had wrote, I didn't know where to go, what to do! Where would I live? I'd starve to death and would be sold into slavery—wait, no, there was no slavery in Tortall.  
  
Okay, breathe Reem! Just breathe! One step at a time.  
  
'I don't have a home.'  
  
Good one Reem!  
  
The Prince gave me a pitying look, which I found very irritating.  
  
'Oh don't give me that look! I don't mean it that way. It's too complicated a story to tell and you'd never believe me anyway—'  
  
'Let me guess,' he interrupted, 'you fell unconscious in a different, modern world and suddenly woke up in my world?'  
  
Raising an eyebrow, I nodded. 'How'd you know?'  
  
'You don't know how many cases we have of those! We've quite gotten used to them. It's been happening ever since my father took reign! But surprisingly, they're all young ladies about your age who wound up here. They're so chattery! They babble on about how their 'dreams have come true'. We've even got a unit set up for them near the palace, so they can live here without the fear they have of starving to death and ending up a slave,' he grinned as I blushed.  
  
So there were a lot of Tammy die-hard fans out there like me! Amazing.  
  
'So…I won't starve to death?' The Prince shook his head, his grin still there. 'And I won't be sold into slavery?' He shook his head again.  
  
'Come with me,' he said, getting up.  
  
I coughed and looked down at my 'nightgown'.  
  
He blushed and left the room so I could change into whatever decent clothes they gave me.  
  
The decent clothes turned out to be breeches, a shirt and a leather jerkin. I wasn't used to it and it felt quite itchy, as well as a trifle uncomfortable.  
  
I found the Prince outside, waiting by the door.  
  
The world of Tortall slapped me in the face like a morning wake-up call.  
  
Carriages and horses roamed the streets, the sounds of hooves trotting over paved streets echoing throughout the streets. Chattering people in poor- looking clothes walked around with baskets full of bread and the like, as well as a thieve here and there stealing a purse. Nobles walked about with their soft-pitched laughs and irritatingly perfect features.  
  
The sun felt hot against my skin, my clothes felt too thick. I wondered where my clothes were. Burned, maybe? Who knew?  
  
I mean, I'd read fan fiction of girls being transported to Tortall worlds, but it wasn't like being there yourself! Nothing like that at all. As much as I'd love to jump on the Prince and proclaim my love to him as he carries me to the palace of my dreams—I don't think it's going to happen. I've got to be sensible here.  
  
Or try to be.  
  
Prince Roald smiled and nodded courteously at me, as he gestured towards a horse a few feet away from me. I get a horse? Great!  
  
'What's its name?' I asked, petting its head as it nuzzled me.  
  
I've always loved horses! Though I'd only ever ridden one once, and that hadn't been much of a good experience.  
  
'It's a he. His name is Tether.' The Prince replied, mounting his horse flawlessly.  
  
I gulped as I steadied my hand on the lump of the stirrup.  
  
I fell at the first attempt, and it wasn't too pleasant to be laughed at by passer-bys, as well as the Prince, who unsuccessfully tried to stifle his laughter.  
  
'Here, I'll help you,' he said, dismounting.  
  
He knelt down beside me and while I tried to swing over the horse's back, he held my left foot in the palms of his smooth, tanned—ok, I'll stop now—hands.  
  
The pain was bearable, but that didn't stop me from letting out an agonistic groan with my eyes squinted in pain. 'My God!'  
  
Smiling, Prince Roald remounted his horse and took hold of my reigns, galloping away towards God knows where, to settle my place in this amazingly familiar—yet also infuriatingly alien world. 


	4. Chap 4

AN: Thank you guys so much for reviewing me! :D Thank you Giovanna, jilla kala, Temptress and Queen Anjie, for the lovely comments! Here goes…  
  
'You can rest here, with the ladies. I'll have a talk with the Mistress of the house to let her know we have a new guest here,' Roald told me quietly, signalling to the door a few steps away with the sound of loud chatter sounding from the inside.  
  
He left shortly, so I went to the door and took a deep breath.  
  
I opened it; the laughter and chatter were so loud. It reminded me of Jerry Springer on a bad day. I swung the door open and peered inside.  
  
Three girls in riding-clothes sat on three separate wooden chairs near the corner of the room. The loud laughter had only come from one girl, the one with emerald eyes. The rest were sullen-looking. The room was very wide and huge, with four beds opposite where the girls sat, the quilts looked soft and comfortable. There was a desk near where the girls sat with a half-used candle and strewn books all over the desk in an unkempt way. There was also a long mirror at the very back of the room.  
  
The three girls turned to look at me.  
  
One was a dark-haired girl with pearly teeth and soft, brown eyes, she had a kind look about her. Another had auburn hair with dazzling blue eyes; her nose was long and her chin stubborn. The last one, still laughing, had long, wavy chocolate-brown hair that bounced to her waist, her eyes were a deep set of emerald and her cheeks were rosy.  
  
'Hello!' the redhead said cheerfully, getting up and walking towards me.  
  
I smiled back. 'Hey,' I croaked.  
  
'Are you new here?' the girl with pearly teeth asked, a deep smile on her kind face.  
  
Nodding, I stood dumbly at the doorway, my eyes roaming the room with curiosity, until the redhead dragged me in with a giggle and closed the door behind me. She sat me down on one of the beds and said she wanted to know all about me and if I loved Tamora Pierce.  
  
I laughed. 'Oh, of course I love Tamora Pierce and I can't believe—'  
  
'—that you ended up in Tortall!' the kind-looking girl finished for me, laughing as well.  
  
'We're all like that! We just can't believe our luck!' the redhead exclaimed.  
  
The emerald-eyed girl that had stayed quiet all the while I'd been there, got up and sighed irritably as she crossed over to where I sat.  
  
'And I suppose you're a bookworm.'  
  
I didn't like her tone of voice; it was mocking like those boys on the bus, daring me to challenge her.  
  
'Yes, unlike many other unintelligent life forms who prefer to lounge around staring at nothing but their reflections on the mirror—I read.'  
  
I'd caught her there—in fact it was ironic, because when I'd said it, she'd been casually looking at herself in the mirror in front of her.  
  
She glared at me.  
  
'Oh, and I guess Ms Smartass over there came to teach us how to be nice, young ladies with their heads in their books twenty-four seven!' she said, her lilting voice mock-enthusiastic.  
  
I shrugged. 'I didn't know you were so keen on being a lady—with your attitude, a bitch came across my mind rather than a lady.'  
  
The redhead snorted and stifled laughter, while the kind-looking girl bit her lip and did the same. The emerald-eyed snob's eyes opened wide and then she huffed indignantly at me and raised her chin to the air. 'The only bitch around here is you,' she said, getting up and leaving the room.  
  
The redhead rolled her eyes. 'Oh Goddess! I wish someone'd stuff a few smelly socks in her mouth! I can't stand her 'sweet' voice and 'perfect' beauty!'  
  
The kind-looking girl nodded, then smiled. 'My name's Heather.'  
  
'Mine's Sarah. But they call Heather, Hayley and me Serena.'  
  
'They give you different names to your originals?' I asked.  
  
'Yeah. They ask us if we wanna change them, coz they're quite boring, so we do.' Hayley replied.  
  
'Ah, well my name's Reem. I don't think I'll change it, I'm used to it. What's that stuck-up pig's name?'  
  
Serena groaned. 'Sandreline.'  
  
'But—'  
  
'—it's Sandry's name, from the COM books, we know,' Serena finished for me glumly. 'Fits the description. Although Sandry isn't obnoxious and self- gloating. I actually like Sandry, but that snob I despise! I wish they'd just chuck her in the Roof of the World or something! Get the monster to tear every limp of hers apart and keep her alive while he makes her watch him eat her remaining bits!'  
  
'I think we'll get along just fine!' I said, laughing.  
  
The door opened to reveal Khalil; his worried face peeping threw the door. His eyes found mine and relaxed. 'There you are!'  
  
'And who's that hunk!' Serena whispered to me, her eyes wide open and her mouth in an O shape as she stared openly at Khalil.  
  
I chuckled. 'My friend, Khalil.'  
  
I got up and went to hug Khalil. I noticed a big bump on his head and when I voiced my worries, he touched my own head, making me wince and realize I had one just as big and gross on my head.  
  
Great, Roald gets to see me in my grotesque form! Wonderful!  
  
Why did I care what Roald thought of me? God!  
  
So I pushed my 'crush' to the back of my mind and turned to my new friends, Hayley and Serena. 'Khalil, this is Serena and Hayley, and as I said, this is Khalil, girls.'  
  
Serena grinned wickedly. 'Pray tell me, does the package come with chocolates, coz without the chocolates he's irresistible, but with the chocolates he's damn priceless—even thinking about it makes me wanna thrown myself at him!'  
  
Hayley rolled her eyes and smiled timidly at Khalil and curtsied. 'Ignore my friend over there, she's a bit dented in the head, a wife of a young boy she'd flirted with had seen her flirt with her man and whacked her hard one day with a pot —obviously she hasn't learnt her lesson yet.'  
  
Khalil grinned. 'So this world isn't too bad after all.' He turned to me and smiled warmly. 'So you got your wish, Reem, you're in Tamora Pierce's world. What're you gonna do now? Become a Knight and roam the lands with Kel? Or flirt with all the men at court and get married to a thief?'  
  
'So he has a creative mind too!' Serena cut in, tucking Khalil's arm in hers and steering him away from us. 'I'd like to introduce you to a few of my friends! And give you a special tour of this wonderful palace!'  
  
Khalil shot a pleading, helpless look at me, but I remembered his comments about flirting with the men at court and grinned ruthlessly at him. 'Have fun!' I called out, just as the door was shut.  
  
I turned to Hayley and we laughed uncontrollably.  
  
'So Serena has waylaid yet another trap for a helpless, gorgeous man!' Hayley grinned. 


	5. Chap 5

After the dramatic episode, I did what any Tammy fan would do; I went to the training area to fish out Kel. I must admit I was also looking for Neal to bash his head in and tear his body limb by limb. I despised the boy. When I had gotten myself lost in the corners and turns of the palace, I sat down grumpily and stared around at the corridor I'd gotten myself lost in. It wasn't dark, but it wasn't exactly bright as well. Not a very comforting sort of place to end up lost in. I sighed and got back up on my feet, looking up and down the corridor and then deciding to go back the way I came, but I ended up in a corridor with three different doors to each side. I decided to knock on one door and ask for directions. I scolded myself for not accepting Hayley's offer to show me around; I'd been too excited to look for Kel to realize that I didn't know the way around the Palace, and no matter how many times I'd read SOTL and POTS, there was no way I could have memorized it. So I knocked on the door and waited patiently. The door opened to reveal the Prince. I'm not the type of girl to swoon and giggle over a guy, but with Roald, I couldn't help myself. I'd always loved and worshipped his father, Jon, but I'd never imagined his son to be so absolutely, incredibly and perfectly gorgeous. Describing him does no good, he's too hot for that, I'd end up making him sound like any other guy from a magazine-but he's not like that, not at all. 'Hey,' he smiled that heart-warming smile as he looked down at me. Everyone looks down on me, I'm that short. Well not very short, just medium-sized and surrounded by people twice my height. It can be demeaning sometimes, but I got used to it and got over it. 'Ah-I kind of got lost,' I mumbled. Did I mention he had a fantastic smile? 'Oh, do you want me to show you back?' Roald offered, already closing the door and leading the way. I wondered if his father had been this polite, kind and drop dead gorgeous. 'Thanks,' I said, when we ended up at the door to my room. I felt sheepish-I'd only had to walk down the corridor and turn right, which was the only way to go, to get to my room. 'How come our rooms are so close to the squires'?' I asked. He grinned. 'Both sides wanted it that way, you see. And the girls from your world kept sneaking into the squires' rooms anyway; too excited, so the King just gave up and cleared this area for them. There are quite a lot of them, about fifty.' I gaped at him and laughed. 'I never knew there were so many teens in comas in my world! And to think.they end up in the world they think of as a second home. Wow. I feel so lucky.' Frowning, he said, 'You girls seem so happy at leaving your world behind, is it so bad? You don't seem to want to go back at all.' 'Oh,' I said seriously, remembering the boys on the bus, 'it just isn't a very wonderful, inspiring world to live in. Too many creeps and Britneys.' 'Britneys?' he said with a confused look. 'Britney Spears wannabes; they're everywhere, in every class, in every corner.' He remained baffled and curious, so I went on. 'There's this main figure in the music world; Britney Spears, she's a slut and dresses in clothes that wouldn't fit a fish-a small one of course-and she can't sing to save her life-live, anyway-and encourages girls to get skimpy and talk so ridiculously, a five year old wouldn't understand their gibberish. And they think guys like that. But only the morons and one- night-standers are attracted to that bull. They don't know that. They usually dye their hair blonde, wear the shortest, most revealing clothes and babble on in their gibberish saying 'like' 'whatever' and 'teehee' every other word. And it's been four damn years and they're still not over it! They're complete bimbos, no brain to speak of really.' 'You're definitely not a Britney, then.' See how sweet he is? Bless the boy. 'Thank you, I'm actually very anti-Britney. Well, I should go now; I've held you up enough. As I've read, a squire's life isn't too easy. See ya.' I smiled as I slowly closed the door. I couldn't help the pathetic, dreamy look that crept up on my face as I leaned against the door. 'You've taken like to our Prince, I see,' Hayley's voice cut through my happy thoughts and my not so innocent wishes and hopes. 'Who hasn't? Why aren't you swooning?' I breathed, sitting on the bed closest to the door. 'Oh, I was like you when I came here. You should know, from Tammy's books, that he's betrothed!' I wrinkled up my nose. 'Yeah, yeah I know. I haven't flirted, I swear. I'm not like that.' She shot me a look that clearly showed her disbelief of what I'd just said. But I hadn't flirted! Why should I, anyway? If the guy liked me (and I doubt it, he's only known me for a few hours) he'd flirt with me, which leaves me to tell him he's betrothed and that I don't go out with guys who are engaged. 'Hey, let's go get you some clothes!' Hayley exclaimed with excitement.  
  
'You have to remember, I don't have any Tortall money,' I pointed out. 'Who said we needed money? The King is really kind! He lets us get clothes for free. But only us good girls,' she grinned; she seemed to grin a lot. Lucky girl, so bubbly and happy. 'But that cow, Sandry, gets clothes.' Hayley's expression turned to revulsion as she mock-gagged. 'The King gives us riding-clothes, two dresses and of course undergarments and the like when we first come. The King dislikes our Sandry and tells her if she wants clothes of her own, she needs to work for them but she gets them good clothes from her fiancée.' 'Fiancée? What, did she dig up some dead zombie and put a ring on his hand?' That earned a giggle from Hayley. 'He's as pompous and arrogant as her, my dear! His name's Haken and he's the son of a Lord of some place or something. Come on! Let's go get those clothes! We can drop you off at the Prince's after so you can parade your new clothes while he swoons over you with those sweet eyes-' I shot her a glance that shut her up, but didn't stop her laughing hysterically.  
  
So I ended up choosing these two made-for-comfort dresses. One was beige, with an embroidered brown waistline; it was plain and comfortable. The other one was for more important events. It was royal- blue with a lighter shade of blue decorating the hem and the neckline, with the same shade of colour of buttons going down from my chest to my waist, where a soft, silky fabric was fitted around my waist; which was decorated with vine-like designs going all the way around the waist in a light blue. I also got undergarments, and they weren't very comfortable. I wondered what would happen when I got my period and winced. Byebye pads, hello pieces of cloths that could fall out of place and get my dress stained at the back any moment. Wonderful. I also had to get shoes; I bought sandals, everyday boots and riding boots. 'The ladies will look at you and huff!' Hayley exclaimed. I hadn't bought any of those prissy high-heels that ladies and nobles around me wore. 'Then I'll look at them and huff just as loudly!' I replied, slipping into the everyday boots. They fit very nicely. 'You'll see, in time you'll be wearing high-heels just like them! I am, too.' She lifted up her dress to reveal black heels. 'The only time you'll see me wearing heels is the time I'm wearing a Mickey Mouse costume and drinking my life away, wearing a beard as long as Santa dearest!' 'I could sew you a Mickey costume, you know,' she said, grinning wickedly. About to reply with a nasty retort, I was interrupted when two maniacs came running up to us. One was screaming and the other was laughing evilly. And of course who were they other than Khalil and Serena. 'Leave me alone!' Khalil screamed at Serena, glaring at her furiously Serena rolled her eyes and turned to me. 'Tell that fool to drop the act and come home with me!' I tsk-tsked and turned to Khalil. 'Love is really a confusing feeling, Khalil! You don't have to hide-' 'I'M NOT IN LOVE! Tell that, that stalker to leave me the hell alone!' he exploded. She must have freaked him out quite a lot to get him so worked up. He was an easy-going fellow, always giving second chances and treating everyone nicely, even people who didn't deserve to be looked at. In the end, Serena muttered something about ignorant men before throwing her arms up to the sky in defeat and wondering off towards a lone, handsome guy near a bakery. 'Finally!' Khalil growled, looking over at the laughing Serena. But there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes. I looked at Hayley and we both exploded with laughter. At least he seemed to be over Marlaine. Of course that could be an act, but Serena would distract him for a while. 


	6. Chap 6

AN: Hehe…thanks reviewers and about the Neal thing Temptress: I absolutely hate Neal, and if I saw him, I'd kill him *evil grin* MUAHAHAHAH…but anyway hehe…we won't go into that…I hope you'll enjoy the next bits! :D btw, if you haven't noticed, I am obsessed (it worries my friends a lot) with Jon *sighs dreamily* but he's too old now, ah well, there's always Roald :D ! Here goes!  
  
When the message came, I couldn't believe it. I was about to meet King Jon—the man I'd always thought to be my future-husband. I'd planned it out; Thayet would turn gay and run off with Verice—Numair's ex—so I'd get the King and I would turn him back into the sweet, loving Prince he'd been before Alanna had rejected him.  
  
'Your Majesty requests you, Lady,' a messenger informed me when I'd answered the knock to the door.  
  
I went ballistic; I shut the door and counted to ten, breathing in and out slowly, before I turned to the royal-blue dress on my bed. I threw off the beige dress and pulled on the other dress. Hayley and Serena had gone to meet some friends; I'd turned down the offer to meet them because I'd wanted a few hours to myself, to work out what I'd gotten myself into.  
  
I took a deep breath before opening the door, basically running into the messenger. But it wasn't the messenger; it was the Prince.  
  
'Hey,' I smiled cheerfully at him.  
  
'I was just coming to get you, my father—'  
  
'Yeah, the messenger told me. D'you know Jon's one of my favourite charac—I mean…ah, well you see—'  
  
'I understand, your favourite character from the 'Tamora Pierce' books. We get that a lot. Please don't faint when you see the King, my father's had so many girls of your world faint at his feet he's beginning to carry salts around with him.'  
  
'I'll try!'  
  
The doors opened to the King's office quarters and I kept my eyes to the floor, wanting it to be a surprise. Maybe Jon's too old for me now, maybe he's greying and crinkly and—  
  
'Holy Cow!'  
  
Everyone in the room turned to look at me. I blushed. 'I mean, good day, your Majesty.' I did the best curtsy I could but I just ended up looking like an idiot.  
  
He was even hotter than Roald. Even if he was older, he still took my breath away.  
  
The King inclined his beautiful head and smiled kindly. 'You're another added mystery to the Girls from the Other World. But you are far more mysterious; we have yet to know your name.'  
  
'Ah—Reem, your Majesty.' I replied, for once my voice was soft and shy.  
  
'Reem? Only Reem?' he inquired with a raised eyebrow.  
  
I gulped. What? I didn't have titles. And I was going to give my last name. 'Yeah, it's pretty complicated, I—'  
  
'You don't need to explain to us,' he said, gesturing to the people around him. I didn't see Alanna anywhere… Was that Numair? No Daine. Myles! And was that Lord Wyldon? My eyes stopped to a marvellously beautiful woman, with full lips and kind, bright eyes.  
  
And that was my 'rival', Thayet. Not likely she'll turn gay, I thought to myself.  
  
Roald nudged my arm, hard, so I snapped back from my evil thoughts and turned to the King, who must have asked a question and was waiting patiently for an answer.  
  
'I'm sorry, your Majesty?'  
  
'Has a guide picked you yet? You need one, and if you don't, Roald has kindly offered to be your guide, we don't want you to get lost…again.'  
  
So the whole kingdom knows the new girl from the 'Other World' got lost on her first day. Haven't others? My God. I'm famous.  
  
'No, I don't have a guide your Majesty, thank you your Majesty, that's very nice of his Highness, Prince Roald.'  
  
The King nodded and went back to his work with obvious dismissal.  
  
Roald led me out of the room.  
  
'See, I didn't faint,' I gloated to Roald, as he shut the door.  
  
'Oh no, just the gaga eyes and the lost-in-dreams look on your face. That's all.'  
  
I made a face and let him steer me back to my quarters.  
  
When we were at my door, he stopped and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. 'I've been given a day off tomorrow, would you like to go riding with me? It's for your own sake, you know. You'll need to learn to ride, side-saddle is all you have to learn though.'  
  
I raised an eyebrow, mock offended. 'Excuse me? Give me lessons and I'll ride better than the King himself! Side-saddle he says! Pfft.'  
  
He laughed as he pushed himself away from the door. 'I find that hard to believe, but I'll take you up on that.'  
  
I smiled triumphantly and unlocked the door with the key Hayley had given me before she'd left with Serena. 'Well, goodnight,' I said.  
  
He nodded and wandered off, hands in pockets.  
  
I changed into the nightgown I'd been given the day I woke in the cottage with Roald in a chair next to me. Funny how every memory I can think of is related to Roald.  
  
I couldn't believe the day was over.  
  
I couldn't believe this day ever happened!  
  
And of course, I couldn't go to sleep; I tossed around in my bed, trying hopelessly to send myself off to sleep, but the buzz and excitement of the day troubled my sleep-deprived body as my mind recalled the events and conversations I'd had that day. In the end I just gave up stared up into the dark ceiling.  
  
I wondered where Khalil was staying; Hayley had told me that he was the only guy from our world to ever turn up in their world. So where did that leave him? Where did he sleep? Where was his room? The poor guy, he's never read Tammy books, he doesn't know much about this world.  
  
My thoughts switched to my mother and I quickly sat up in my bed, feeling guilty. How was she doing? I wondered. Was I really in a coma back there, or had I just disappeared? Did I have two bodies, one lying limp in the Other World and the one I was living in currently, in Tortall?  
  
Tears threatened to overwhelm me as I thought of my weak, fragile mother. She still hadn't completely recovered, and now I practically die on her, what is she doing? Has she slipped back into depression? Who's going to manage the bills, take care of the house and most importantly, who's looking after her? Her pride wouldn't let her go to her mother or sisters and brothers and ask for help, she'd never asked me to help because she'd sunk too deep into her depression to notice there were bills to pay and things to look after. So who's going to help her now that I was gone?  
  
In the end I exhausted myself to sleep with questions about the Other World and my mother. 


	7. Chap 7

AN: lol, yeah Lilian, Jon's a babe, but he's mine! (trust me, I have a very unhealthy obsession with him, it's scary…see Louy, I admit it!) Yay, thanks for the support guys, it's been GREAT…*hugs for all* *trudges off to write more…* and Louy, (dreamerbabylioness if you're thinkin WTH?) so the Evil One has reviewed her Other Evil Half! lol, a scary thought indeed…well enjoy guys! Thanks again for the reviews (Temptress, Lilian, Kaye, dreamerbabylioness, Queen Anjie, jilla kala) oh and Temptress, I don't like Neal coz he's a self-obsessed idiot and I resent Kel liking someone like him! Oops, sorry Neal fans! Don't flame me, I'M INNOCENT I TELL YOU!  
  
Chapter Two – Men and Their Games  
  
Roald made me mount and dismount so any times, that alone tired the hell out of me. I was puffing by the time he'd said that was enough mounting. I glared at him while I breathed quickly.  
  
'You're a slave-driver!' I growled.  
  
He grinned ruthlessly, patting his horse. 'You want to be as good as the King don't you? Wait, you want to be better, don't you… so come on, time for actually staying on the horse at a trot.'  
  
I gave him a pained look. 'Can't we rest a bit? My bones are about to break off!'  
  
'Come on! No complaining! My father didn't complain!'  
  
So I mounted the horse and groaned as my muscles stretched and winced with pain. I prayed the sourness I would feel tonight would be worth it.  
  
My horse was small and cute, her name was Calmheart because she was always calm, even when there had been a small fire in the stables that had frightened all the other horses, she'd merely sauntered around her space and waited patiently for the fire to be put out. She didn't neigh loudly in fright and try to break out of the stables. No, she'd remained calm throughout the whole episode, hence her name.  
  
'Follow me!' Roald called out, letting go of my reigns and handing them to me.  
  
I looked at him, then the reigns and slowly took them in my hands. I gulped and tried to keep myself balanced on Calmheart, she was very tolerant, since I wasn't a very calm myself.  
  
It was harder than it looked, to stay balanced on a horse that is. The wind tugged at you and you feel like you're going to topple down any second, face-first. So you have to keep your feet in place and your thighs pressed against the horse; that's the main key. To keep your legs clenched into the horse, not too hard, that would just irritate the horse.  
  
I learnt that the hard way, as soon as I'd loosened my legs, I lost balance and was knocked down to the ground. It was a soft landing, but a painful one nonetheless. Roald merely chuckled and helped me back up and watched amusedly as I dusted off the dirt.  
  
'Thank you, your Highness, you're too kind!' I grunted, remounting Calmheart and locking my legs in place, tugging at the reigns and digging my heel into her mount. Calmheart went off at a trot and I copied what I'd seen Roald do many times when he'd showed me how to saunter a horse.  
  
I'll show him I can ride well, maybe not as good as the King, but I can ride well nevertheless!  
  
'Come on, girl!' I whispered to Calmheart, as I leaned my head over hers and felt the wind blasting against me in a powerful fury.  
  
So off she bolted with me praying I won't lose control and get thrown against the floor, or something worse. But I sauntered her back over to where Roald sat patiently, and slowly brought Calmheart to a stop.  
  
I felt my breath come in three times faster than normal as I gasped for air to feed my hungry lungs, but I was smiling and happy. I'd done it; I'd ridden without falling off or losing balance once.  
  
'I hope the King doesn't take being bested too badly!' I laughed, dismounting. I would have fallen to the ground if Calmheart hadn't been there for me to lean against. I bent over and listened to my breath come in short pants.  
  
Roald merely smiled. 'I'm sure the King knows the way of defeat—Alanna's taught him to take it with a grin.'  
  
'Come on, where's your chivalry! Help me to my room!' I exclaimed, but Roald shook his head firmly.  
  
'We haven't finished yet. I want to see you trot Calmheart over to that tree down there and back here. Only a trot, Reem, do not race off!'  
  
Roald tortured me with another ten of the trotting up and down exercise he called 'warming up'. My muscles felt like a scorching iron rod a smith uses and my bones were about to fall off of me by the time Roald declared the training lesson over.  
  
'You,' I pointed at the Prince, glaring and panting as I collapsed to the ground, 'are a monster!'  
  
Shrugging, he sat down beside me. 'The King wouldn't tire this easily, neither would a mere page.'  
  
'Hey, give me a break! I've only ridden a horse once in my life, and we were two on the horse, I was at the back and I was nearly falling off the horse! Not worth the money I paid!'  
  
'Well, at least now you know the basics of riding,' Roald said.  
  
'Basics? I know how to saunter, I know how to trot, I know how to run and I know how to bring the damn horse to a stop, what more do you want?' I questioned gruffly.  
  
'Well,' Roald began, 'you need to learn how to start of at a walk, then a saunter, then a trot, then a walk and gradually bring the pace down until you stop to a halt. Do you know how to do that?'  
  
I scowled and shook my head.  
  
He smiled. 'Well, that's what more I want you to learn.'  
  
I gaped at him. 'You're mad! I've barely started and you're treating me like a pro!'  
  
'Whining won't get you anywhere, but the monster in me pities you, so I'll buy you a drink and some food. Come on,' he helped me up.  
  
'I'm not really hungry,' I lied. I didn't want to hang around this guy more than necessary; a crush turning into an obsession in an unknown world isn't a good thing at all. 'I think I'll go relax, back in my room.'  
  
But Roald didn't let off. 'You can relax in an inn with some fresh-brewed beer or—'  
  
'Oh, I don't think underage drinking is very intelligible.'  
  
He stared at me like I'd gone mad.  
  
'Listen, as much as I love beer and would love to hang around drunk men with beards that could hide a chicken, I'd really like a nice, relaxing day to myself.'  
  
I didn't even wait for his reaction; I whirled around and winced as my muscles acted up. But I kept walking—well, dragging myself—back to my quarters. As much to my dismay, he didn't come after me, didn't even call me back. So I pushed that disappointment to the back of my mind and concentrated on the main question.  
  
Do I want to go back to the Other World (aka my world) or do I want to stay in this world?  
  
But first I had to talk to Khalil, he didn't know anything about this world, I don't know why he ended up here and not in some fantasy world of his own. But I wasn't going to let him live in this world so ignorantly. He needed to learn the ways of Tortall.  
  
With my mind made up, I walked over to a handsome squire who was practicing archery in the field. When he was out of arrows, I whistled to get his attention.  
  
'Hey, you. Yes you. Mind helping a gorgeous Lady here?'  
  
The look he gave me certainly spelled out freak, so I rolled my eyes and walked up to him. 'Listen, bud, my guide is currently held up at some inn, drinking his heart out and I need someone to help me around. You see—'  
  
'You're one of the girls from the Other World, aren't you?' he asked, his eyes wide in astonishment and fear.  
  
'Ah, yeah, whatever. So can you please help me? I'm a Lady in distress here! Isn't that one of your chivalry codes, to aid any Lady in 'distress'?'  
  
If he would just stop giving me that look, I might not slap him to the ground!  
  
'Sure.'  
  
Thank you!  
  
'Where do you want to go?' he asked, putting down his bow.  
  
'Well,' I started, 'there's this guy called Khalil and I—'  
  
'Oh, if you're looking for that boy, he's over at the inn closest to the Palace!'  
  
I couldn't help rolling my eyes. 'Yeah, great, that's wonderful, but could you please help me get there! I haven't really been here long enough to memorize the palace, let alone the streets of Tortall!'  
  
There was that look again.  
  
'Hey, enough staring! Just take me there, ok?' I just hoped Roald wouldn't be there. Standing him up was one thing, showing up and talking to another guy while he was watching was another thing.  
  
I sighed at the complexity of obtaining a love life and followed the baffled boy.  
  
It took ten minutes to get to the inn, I didn't bother looking around the tavern, I'd point out Khalil even if five thousand guys that looked like him were put in front of me.  
  
'Hey, Khalil,' I shouted over the raucous, from the door.  
  
That was a very bad move.  
  
All eyes turned to me, every single pair of them, and one of the pair of eyes belonged Roald's.  
  
I nearly cursed, but contained myself and walked gracefully towards Khalil and grabbed and dragged him out of the room, breathing a sigh of relief when I shut the door behind me.  
  
'Mate, we need to talk,' I said, leaning against the wall of the inn, arms folded across my chest.  
  
From the look on his face, I could tell he was more than a little tipsy. I felt like slapping him, after I'd watched my mum get drunk and wreck her life because of the booze, I'd gotten very testy about drinking. And I didn't like my best friend getting drunk at all.  
  
So I did slap him.  
  
'You friggin' idiot! If I see you in that damn inn one more time, I will kick you head in so fast, the next thing you know you're squeaking your lungs out—in your next life!'  
  
I didn't count on three macho-type men—who looked a lot like drunk sailors—to come up behind Khalil and grunt at me gruffly.  
  
'You botherin' our mate, Lady?' the one with oily hair roared, putting a meaty arm around Khalil's shoulders, jolting him.  
  
I didn't feel threatened at all at that moment, I could take them on. Just give me a sword.  
  
'If I was bothering him, I'd tell you, so if you could please butt your pretty faces out of my business, I'm quite busy right now!'  
  
The other two; one with a huge scar across his cheek and the other with the longest beard, gaped at me before growling like starved beasts.  
  
'Listen, wench, no one talks to us that way—'  
  
'Well, I have, so get over it and bug off! Man, are you deaf? My bud and me have some serious talking to do and if you don't leave now, your pretty faces will be decorating another grave in a cemetery!'  
  
Beard-man's face went pale, then red with rage as he lunged at me. I blocked him with my fist and kicked him in the groin. I'd learnt that in self-defence classes at school—at least I learnt something there. He crumbled to the ground in pain.  
  
The next guy, scar-man, swung a punch at my face—but luckily he was too drunk to cause any real damage. My head rang a bit from the punch but I noticed Khalil swinging back a punch of his own at the chest of scar-man.  
  
But oily-hair was laughing nastily, with squinting eyes as he rounded me up, clamping his hands together and rubbing them. 'You're a pretty one, aren't you.'  
  
I could tell that this one wasn't drunk at all and that I was in big trouble because he was three times my height and size, but I wasn't going to let him bully me about.  
  
I fought with something sharper than swords—words. Too bad they weren't heavier.  
  
'Pity I can't say the same about you! I thought you looked pretty from afar, but man do you need a shave! Have you ever heard of a razor? And that bush you call hair! Might as well grab a bird and nest it there, for affect!'  
  
Just like beard-man, oily-hair's face drained of all colour, and then the colour—mostly red—flooded back into his ugly, scarred face and he attacked.  
  
As soon as I was about to swing a punch of my own—Roald appeared out of nowhere and fought karate-style, in a matter of seconds sending oily-hair splat against the wall of the inn, with a groan.  
  
Alanna had probably taught him the Shang way of fighting.  
  
Khalil had been sober enough to not get himself hurt by beard-man, who was lying alongside scar-man. I wondered how Khalil had gotten to know such brutes. But I knew—from drinking.  
  
'You moronic—' censored swearing '—I hope you damn well learnt your lesson because I am not saving your butt next time!'  
  
'Save my butt?' Khalil exclaimed, swaying.  
  
'Yes!' I growled back, my face blazing with rage. 'You nearly got us—'  
  
'You're da one 'oo needed savin'! You pulled me out of da inn 'n' you insulted the free'kin' idiots 'n' ended—'  
  
'Excuse me!? Was I the one who got drunk and made friends with the ugliest, filthiest sailors a—'  
  
'I am nut drunk!' He screeched, his own face blazing now.  
  
'What do you call that swaying, then? Temporary loss of a brain to control your balance? You never had a brain to begin with! It was drained away just as you drained those cups of beer and I wouldn't—'  
  
'Listen to you! You're da one actin' like a drunkurd! I never thought—'  
  
'Me!? Never have I picked up a single cup of beer since my mum got sick you moron! My words aren't being slurred, my breath doesn't stink from alcohol and I am not swaying like an idiot! I hope you damn well get what I'm—'  
  
'Maybe if you free'kin' listen't me for a second—'  
  
'SHUT UP!'  
  
Amazingly, both Khalil and me turned to look at the fuming Prince.  
  
'My head is swirling thanks to you two! Can't you fight without acting like such children? Cutting off each other and screaming your lungs out—the whole of Tortall probably now knows of your foolish episode! Now I want you to get back to the Palace and stay there, for Tortall's sake…and my ears'.'  
  
I looked at Khalil; he was still swaying and hiccupping, but other than that, he was just as silent and solemn as me. We marched back to the Palace like guilty little children marching home after playing in the mud and knowing they were in for it from their mothers.  
  
I didn't know Roald could be so authoritative, as soon as he uttered an order, you felt you had to obey. No choice. His voice was empowering and certainly not a voice to doubt or go against.  
  
King Roald will certainly be a popular King, when his day comes. And his Queen, the Yamani Princess, will certainly be a lucky queen.  
  
I slid my arms around Khalil's waist and leaned my head against his chest as we walked up the road towards the Palace. 'I hope you know how disappointed I am in you,' I stated.  
  
Roald groaned from behind us. 'No, not again, Reem.'  
  
But Khalil merely put his own arms around my shoulders and sighed.  
  
King Jonathon, my ex-future-husband, gave me the biggest lecture when he'd returned to the Palace from an expedition of some sort, a half hour before midnight.  
  
I was sour and grouchy and wishing I'd never ventured out to see Khalil. It hadn't been worth it.  
  
'Young lady, I trusted you to behave properly, I trusted you to go out without making a mockery of yourself, but you went along and profoundly proved me wrong! But did you have to alert the whole of Tortall of it? Couldn't you just have fell off a horse or something! At the least! But no, you went into a men-only'—which explained the attention I'd stirred—'tavern and insulted the best sailors around and left them aching and pounded outside the tavern! I hope you enjoyed yourself, because I certainly didn't. The girls from the Other World aren't all that popular in Tortall and in fact, people fear them. Even our greatest mages can't transport themselves into another world, and you people come and do just that, sparking fear in even the King of Tortall.'  
  
I was very much expecting him to say 'Do you repent, now, and go with peace, Reem?'  
  
But of course he didn't, instead he looked piteously at me and shook his head sadly.  
  
'Young lady, next time you want to go around knocking sailors' heads and attract so much attention, disguise yourself as a merchant or something, all right? People are used to merchants stirring up trouble, but not ladies who are known to be of the Other World, people react reproachfully to that.'  
  
My God, Jon sure knows how to bore a girl!  
  
'Yes, your Majesty, I comprehend what you have been telling me and I regret all that I've done and I beg your forgiveness. Will your Majesty forgive the little lady that I am? I beg to change your Majesty's opinion of me! I'm a polite and well-mannered young lady'—a cough from Khalil—'and a lady that does not purposefully disobey or anger her elders. Am I forgiven? I repent feverously.'  
  
With my innocent-act on, down to the fluttering lashes and wide, blameless eyes and pouting mouth, I had Jon in the trap.  
  
'Of course, I was merely pointing out that you be discreet next time you decide to embarrass yourself.' He smiled warmly down at me and patted my cheek. 'You may go now.' His eyes hardened as he turned to look at Khalil. 'As for you young man,' his harsh voice bellowed.  
  
I snickered at Khalil and made a rude gesture, he had to grunt and bare it because the King would see all that he did, so I got away with it and slipped out of His Majesty's office and into my room.  
  
Roald was waiting at my door. He was surprised to see me—it was my room, I was sure of that, I even looked around for the picture near the wall of an ancient-looking woman that distinguished my room from the rest, and found it. So why did he look so amazed?  
  
'He let you go?' he cried out.  
  
'Who?' I asked, taking out the key from around my neck, I'd linked it to a thong and placed it around my neck since the dress didn't have any pockets.  
  
'My father! He let you go, without any grounding or any punishment?' he looked baffled.  
  
'As if he would! I wouldn't listen to him even if he did punish me! What is he, my dad or something? Nope, sorry, my dad is long dead and enjoying himself in his next life!'  
  
'I-I didn't know,' Roald stammered, pity in his eyes.  
  
I got angry when people pitied me, why feel sorry for me? Just because I didn't have a father didn't mean I'm deprived or anything, my mum loved me the amount of two people! I didn't need a father to live or breathe. I'd managed without him, why the look of pity?  
  
That's why I was short with Roald. 'Look, I need some sleep, so just leave, ok?'  
  
He looked hurt. 'Oh, all right. I just wanted to ask—would you like to come with me tomorrow? I'm going riding and would love some company. Yours preferably.'  
  
Why was he asking me out? This was the second time. But maybe, I thought, it was just friendliness, because I didn't have anything to do, he's just asking me out for fun—as friends.  
  
Do I jump to conclusions or what? I thought to myself lamely.  
  
The Prince of Tortall—a betrothed Prince of Tortall—asking a weirdo like me out? Possible, but improbable, the way Tammy had described the Yamani Princess; I was not even slight competition.  
  
And so I did what I knew I had to do: refuse. And stubbornly.  
  
'Nah, I'm sorry, I've promised Serena to go out with them tomorrow, I haven't met their friends yet and they seem excited enough,' I said curtly.  
  
'Oh,' he said with obvious disappointment and a hint of embarrassment. 'Some other day then?'  
  
'Ah, yeah, sure,' I replied uneasily, unlocking the door and saying a quick good night and shutting the door behind me. I undressed and slipped into my nightgown and let my hair down from the bun it had been pinned to. My thick, curly brown hair fell down to my waist—so ungracefully, it made me laugh. It just went blop; not like any shampoo adds I'd seen, with the swaying, shiny hair.  
  
But the world was full of bull that people had to live with; TV was one of them.  
  
I crawled into my soft, comfortable bed and sighed with relief; the day was over.  
  
The prospect of 'tomorrow' was hazy through the prospect of actual sleep. My body felt so sleep-deprived, it felt hallow and greedy for sleep. Even if I had to have those dreams, the dreams that I woke up sweating and choking from, they were so real, so tremendously real that I had to pinch myself to see if I was awake.  
  
I'd had those dreams ever since my father had died, and they'd increased when my brother had also passed away. My mum's therapist had told me it was natural to have nightmares after deaths of close people in the family, but even after I had really gotten over their deaths, these dreams remained to haunt and stalk me. And whoever was causing it was far worse than mincemeat when I found them out.  
  
I mean there had to be someone behind my nightmares, because nightmares don't start up on their own; just like fires never start up on their own. No matter what bush campers say about it not being their fault that the fires started whilst they were there, the blame was placed on them because fires don't materialize in secure areas without a little push; like an uncovered campfire, or rubbish of glass and flammable objects.  
  
It was the same with nightmares, something or someone had to spark the flame for it to grow to a disaster.  
  
But my mum's therapist just threw my explanation out the window when I'd told her of it, she'd laughed and looked at me with pity—which I resented—and told me that she was positively sure that when I get over the deaths of my father and brother; I'd be fine.  
  
Surprise, surprise, it's not fine. But I've gotten used to it, it's an inconvenience and once again, a routine I put up with. Routines seemed to rule my life. But hey, that's just another daily routine. Life.  
  
  
  
The next morning I woke up sour, grumpy and testy.  
  
The nightmares hadn't helped either, and neither did Roald's training lesson. Both added up with the fact that I'm in a totally different world than I'm used to and that my undergarments are so itchy I can barely walk—not that I could in my sour condition—I wasn't a very happy person that day.  
  
'Let's go have some breakfast!' Hayley said with a huge smile.  
  
The smile made me wince; happiness seemed so far off when you're in such pain. 'Where?' I asked, praying it wasn't too far off because I couldn't walk far without collapsing. Well no, that was a lie, but who's gonna know?  
  
'At the squires' mess maybe?' Serena said, feigning innocence. But both of us, Hayley and me, knew that the only reason Serena wanted to eat there was because Khalil was going to eat there. He'd made some friends with the squires he was sharing quarters with and was of course tagging along where they went.  
  
'All right, let's go then,' I said, feeling sorry for Serena's desperation to be around Khalil. 'Are we allowed to though?'  
  
There was a twinkle in Serena's bright face as she got up from the chair with determination. 'We'll just have to find out.' 


	8. Chap 8

Time: unknown.  
  
Destination: the squires' mess.  
  
Punishment: unknown, but feared.  
  
We made our way down the hallway, the three of us being Hayley, Serena and me, with our chins held up high and our skirts trailing behind us in negligence. Our footsteps echoed in the empty halls as we looked about for anyone with authority that might stop us from our destination.  
  
Serena threw the doors open to the dining hall to reveal famished boys pigging out in the most atrocious, revolting way possible. I felt like puking myself, I didn't know about Serena, but Hayley sucked in her breath with disbelief.  
  
Suddenly, all was quiet and all eyes turned to us.  
  
Someone with a scarred, terrifying face stood up and glared at us. Obviously girls weren't allowed in the hall.  
  
Uh-oh, busted by Lord Wyldon. He looked like he could kill us. Girls? Girls in the squires mess? Intolerable! Death to the witches! Death!  
  
Escape root: to our quarters.  
  
'Run,' I whispered to the gawking girls. But they were too stunned and I wasn't about to betray my friends, so I coughed and stepped forward, my head held up high and my voice audible and clear in the huge room.  
  
'I'm terribly sorry, Lord Wyldon, to interrupt your meal that is,' I said in my most formal and controlled voice—or so I hoped, 'But there was no one to tell but you, I don't know where everyone goes when you need them! Our room is infested with bugs, all sorts of disgusting, revolting, creepy, slithering bugs that we cannot bare to look at without gagging! Would you please help us in our crisis, kind Lord?'  
  
When Lord Wyldon blazed at me, I raised an eyebrow in defiance. 'My Lord? Are you coming?'  
  
The guy was so unemotional, he just left the table, told the pages and squires and knights to go on eating and walked past me glaring. I quickly turned to look for Roald and whistled for him to look at me.  
  
People noticed what I was aiming at and told him to look at me. I made a gesture that in my world meant magic but he just gave me a baffled look. So I mouthed, 'Use your Gift! Make bugs!'  
  
The helpful squires passed on the message and Roald grinned at me and nodded, closing his eyes as he sent his Gift to work.  
  
I smiled in satisfaction and dragged the ladies out of the mess with me, with whistles, clapping and hoots thrown at us even as I closed the door.  
  
We giggled as we ran to our rooms, where we found Lord Wyldon consorting with an old man who was in bad need of a haircut, a shave and from the distinct smell, a shower.  
  
'There are insects crawling in the girls' rooms, get rid of them! I don't want them pestering me anymore, my boys don't need distractions like that!' Lord Wyldon was barking with his authoritative voice at the frail man, who sighed and walked into the room. He walked out moments later and scowled at the Wyldon.  
  
'There's nothing there!' he growled and left.  
  
Lord Wyldon looked baffled as he walked into the room, got out and turned to look at us suspiciously. Girls of course were experts at this and returned his look with innocent, free-of-guilty and totally believable expressions.  
  
'I saw it with my own eyes,' he told no one in particular, squinting his eyes at us angrily.  
  
He stomped off to the mess hall again, leaving the three of us to laugh unashamedly as we entered our bug-free room.  
  
I made a note to thank Roald when I next saw him. I didn't know what Lord Wyldon would have done to us girls if all of us had stood there gawking like idiots, and if Roald hadn't used his Gift to trick the Stump into thinking there were bugs in our rooms.  
  
'Did you see the look on his face when we walked into that room?' Hayley laughed, tears rolling down her cheeks.  
  
I'd forgotten my sourness and was enjoying the moment as I burst out laughing again. 'Oh my God, I wish I'd had a camera!'  
  
Khalil walked in that moment and shook his head at us, looking at us as if to say; have you no shame?  
  
'Why, hello stranger, glad you found some time for us poor gals!' I grinned, getting up and hugging him, having to go on my tippee-toes to get my arms around him.  
  
'Lovely act you put up in the mess,' he chuckled, ruffling my messed-up hair. My hair's always messed up, so I always keep it in a bun or a plait.  
  
'I was so lucky Roald was actually there, if Lord Wyldon had found out I was lying, our heads would have rolled in a matter of seconds. Mine specifically!' I tugged at his hair.  
  
'You could have insisted the bugs had gotten scared and run off at the sound of his footsteps; any sane living thing would run when an angry Stump's heading their way.'  
  
'Hey, you got anything planned, Khalil?' I asked, an idea forming in my head.  
  
'No, not really, why?'  
  
'Well, let's go for a picnic, all of us! Invite your friends—I don't think the squires can come, but invite the girls Serena and Hayley!' I had no idea why, but I actually felt excited at the prospect of a picnic. My first outing in the world of Tortall. Wow.  
  
Khalil gaped at me with mock-shock, 'And who's gonna keep the macho of the group entertained?'  
  
Big mistake, bud, I thought to myself, as Serena slyly wedged between us, taking his arm in hers as she'd done. 'That's where I come in, hun.' She grinned nastily for effect.  
  
It worked.  
  
Khalil miraculously pulled away from her, his face pale now. 'Actually, I might ask Roald to come with me!'  
  
I frowned. 'Why Roald?'  
  
'Because he's a friend. Why not Roald?' he asked, with a curious, raised eyebrow.  
  
'Ah—coz…' Well I couldn't just say 'oh, hey, he invited me to his own outing and I said no way mate, doing my own thing and oh oops—didn't invite him!' so I said, 'Actually, why not? I'm just being an idiot! Tell him not to bring the whole throne with him, all right?'  
  
Khalil rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him.  
  
'Reem,' Serena said, face straight.  
  
'Yeah?' I asked, undressing from my beige gown and into my riding clothes.  
  
'Have you ever been or are you and Khalil together?' she croaked.  
  
I laughed, 'No, we're just friends.' People had always asked me that, like it wasn't obvious. That we're friends that is.  
  
Hayley was also throwing off her dress and slipping on her riding clothes, humming to herself, ignoring us. That girl lived in the other, Other World. Two worlds aren't enough for her; three seemed to be a minimum.  
  
Once we were ready, Hayley and me made our way to the stables while Serena called on the girls.  
  
So we were waiting by our horses; Hayley alongside a pure, stark-white horse with blue eyes and me with Calmheart. Tether—the nice horse I'd ridden the first day of my life in Tortall, to the Palace—was nowhere in sight, so I brought Calmheart. Not that I didn't like Calmheart, but Tether had hit a soft spot in my heart, he had been too cute.  
  
'Ready!' Serena called out, a whole swarm of a herd of cheerful girls hurrying after her. There were at least twenty. I felt outnumbered. I had never been and in no way planning to be girly or as boring-looking as those girls swamping towards me at that time. I felt actual fear.  
  
And half of them were carrying baskets; of food of course, and I felt stupid to forget the most important thing in a picnic. The Food.  
  
'Oh, thanks! If you'd left the picnic up to me, we would have starved!' I told Serena as she giggled and agreed.  
  
After a few minutes, when all the girls had mounted their horses, Khalil, Roald and another unfamiliar squire tottered down with their horses towards us, Khalil waving at me like the dolt he was and me waving back at him like the oaf I was.  
  
So off we went, with Roald leading because he knew where to go, and us girls chattering as we followed the 'men' of the group.  
  
'Hey!' a girl rode up to me cheerfully, her loose, fiery-hair wavering after her.  
  
'Hey,' I replied, smiling.  
  
'You're the new one aren't you? The one that got kicked out of that inn!'  
  
I stared at her and then laughed. Rumours spread faster than deadly diseases. 'No! No, I kicked some sailor-butt,' I corrected her.  
  
She laughed back, very loudly. 'Of course, of course. We were so excited that another Tammy fan's joined us!'  
  
'I hope I don't disappoint ya then,' I said.  
  
She giggled once more and then slipped back behind with her friends, saying she'd talk to me some time later.  
  
So one after the other, the girls introduced themselves to me, while all I could do was smile and crack silly jokes, not paying much attention to what they were saying but what they were not saying; what true emotions they held in their eyes. "The secret to the heart lies in the eyes" a wise person had once said.  
  
And it was a hundred percent true.  
  
Most of the people greeting me with warm wishes were honest enough, some seemed to think I was a freak of some sort, which I totally accepted because I admit to being one. Just a very nasty and protective freak. Touch my friends and you're asking for every single bone of your healthy body to be broken. That's my motto.  
  
We stopped in this miniature-forest type of hill; there were tall, beautiful trees surrounding us and the sun was shadowed by those tall living and breathing, wavering things, the birds chirped and the breeze was refreshing, anyone who hadn't want to come to this picnic was immensely enjoying themselves and happy that they had been bullied by Serena into coming.  
  
The little red-head had steered the reluctant Khalil away, somewhere among the trees, causing a wave of rumours to flare among the troop of hormonal teens and two very nervous men that they were hitting it off.  
  
I strode over to Roald and the unknown squire. 'Hey! Enjoying the sunshine?' I asked cheerfully.  
  
'As much as a fish out of water,' the squire replied sourly.  
  
He was very handsome—not as cute as Roald, but cute nonetheless—with his brown-chestnut hair ruffled, glimmering, sharp black eyes twinkling and tanned skin.  
  
'A very happy fish you are, then,' I smiled, outstretching my hand towards him, 'My name's Reem.'  
  
'I know,' he replied, his eyes twinkling even more as he smiled brightly, 'and mine's—'  
  
'REEM!'  
  
That had snapped me out of my trance, I'd seen something in his eyes—something not so normal, but just as I was about to look on, my name was called again.  
  
I turned to see Hayley waving for me to come over; I smiled and nodded.  
  
'Well, the popular must pay the price of popularity!' I sighed mock-sadly. 'Bah-bye!' I turned to get one more look at the squire, but saw nothing unusual in his dark eyes this time. I shrugged and ran over to the bubbly girls. 


	9. Chap 9

AN: This isn't a very good Chapter, sorry guys :(  
  
After we'd eaten, I went as far away from the annoying clutter and noise of gossiping girls: to an old, thriving tree. Its heavy burden of hundreds of branches spread out and hooked downwards to portray the immense weight of them. I had to merely look at it to respect the tree's age.  
  
I rested on my back, my arms tucked under my head, as I stared up at the waving branches and rustling leaves. The smell was so fresh and relieving, I felt my body relax and slip into meditation mode unconsciously. It was so peaceful and beautiful in this world. Back home, sure it had been gorgeous in Melbourne. Lots of trees, but wherever you went there were the sounds of chatter or engines roaring or something noisy. There was not a block of land unused or quiet—except the mountains.  
  
But here there was a lot of space and piece and quiet, a whole lot more than my world anyway.  
  
'Peaceful, isn't it?'  
  
I looked up to see Roald's frame leaning against the tree beside me. I got up and leaned on my elbow and smiled. 'Damn sure. I'd love to live here, without a care of bills to pay or acting nice to people who deserve to be spat on and ignoring people who you aren't supposed to talk to just because they're not "cool enough".'  
  
Roald sighed, walking over and sitting on his own back, looking up at the branches as I'd looked up a few seconds ago. 'But this world isn't perfect, Reem. There is bullying and abuse just like your world, sometimes far worse than in your world. And there are taxes to pay here too. Look at the streets, look at all the beggars and homeless; that's the cause of loss of money or just no money to begin with. Isn't that the same as what you have in your world?'  
  
I nodded, and then shook my head. 'Your world isn't polluted with the stench of machines and smoke; your air is sweet and fresh. Your soil isn't ruined from pesticides, causing the growth of all vegetables and fruits to bear less healthy fruit than before humans decided to fool with the soil. Your living days aren't ruled by the horror of going to school and being treated differently just because you're different, whether it be your difference is size, shape, religion, race or whatever. So long as you're different, you're going to be picked on. Unless you have money or something people love.'  
  
'But,' Roald said determinedly, 'you have to remember that no world is perfect. There are always injustice and faults in every world, no matter how hard you fight to ignore them.'  
  
'I wish I could think like you,' I said quietly, with a glum twitch of the lips, which could be looked at as a smile. 'But I can't. The world is a horror to me, a horror I have to put up with and live in. Now I have the opportunity to make a fresh start, in a new world. Don't stop me. No matter what you say; my world is a kazillion times worse than yours.'  
  
He frowned at me; I was tempted to look into his eyes and see what he was really thinking, but I held back. He was my friend after all.  
  
'You have a big grudge against the world, don't you?' he finally said, in a sad tone.  
  
I thought of what he said, slowly. A grudge? I'd never thought of it that way.  
  
'No, no. The world has a grudge against me.' I told him firmly.  
  
He laughed then. 'The world has a grudge against you? No offence, Reem, but who are you for the world to have a grudge against? The world has far more important things to do then deliberately set traps and torments for you everyday.'  
  
I blushed and for once, shut up and enjoyed the fresh breeze sweeping across, rustling the leaves with a slow, gentle push.  
  
But soon the picnic was over and Roald had to go do whatever squires did. So that's when I took the chance to go and talk to the squire. He was quite mysterious and I felt I had every right to see what he was hiding in his eyes; something not dangerous I was hoping.  
  
So as we rode back, I trudged up ahead and smiled as saintly and sickeningly sweetly as possible when I caught up with him. He returned the smile—only it wasn't saintly and sickeningly sweet, it was a forced smile. Obviously so.  
  
'Did you enjoy the picnic?' I continued smiling, my eyes probing his. But it seemed to hurt to look for more than a few seconds and every time I probed further, it sent shocks through my mind.  
  
A mystery indeed.  
  
'Yes, I enjoyed it,' he replied. And I felt eerie, because I felt some odd feeling tinkle my mind and I knew it was him probing my mind. So I imagined a barrier like I'd read in Tammy's books and held it up in my mind.  
  
No jerky, stubborn—if handsome—squire was stealing my thoughts. Even though I was trying to do the same, unsuccessfully.  
  
'That's great—coz you know we set up the whole picnic thing for the sake of enjoying it. So yeah, that's wonderful—that you enjoyed it.'  
  
To anyone—and I supposed everyone around us thought so—it seemed that we were having a polite, friendly conversation. But of course we weren't. I'd been making up all that bull on the spot, concentrating more on stopping the maniac from distorting my mind; he was probing so hard, the migraine I'd so gratefully lost thanks to the picnic was returning.  
  
And that got me mad.  
  
So I increased my probing so that he'd stop attacking me and start defending himself. It worked. He winced and turned red as he fought me. This, I thought, is actually fun. I felt like a mage fighting off some other evil, maniac of a dark mage, except I was the dark mage. I was pure evil.  
  
'Well, I thank you for the picnic; it was very successful. I am sure everyone is grateful you set one up for us busy folks.' He smiled delightfully and suddenly, let go of his barrier and just stopped his probing.  
  
It threw me back and my mind swirled for a bit.  
  
When I could see properly again, I smiled dazzlingly—I tried at the least—and then fell back behind and joined Serena and Hayley.  
  
'Had enough of the Prince and now wanting the handsome Yamani squire?' Hayley teased.  
  
Yamani?  
  
Oh he could so easily kick my butt, I thought frantically. I'd had hopes of meeting the squire in a dark alley and telling him that evil will always prevail—the good evil that is—and that no matter what he does, I will keep the Kingdom and the Royals of Tortall safe. Now pay scum. And there starts a fight, which ends with the creep bleeding, half-dead, in a corner and me, victorious.  
  
'He's cute enough…but did you see his eyes?' I asked curiously, wondering if anyone beside me detected something strange at the encounter.  
  
But all Hayley did was nod like an idiot and giggle. 'They…were…gorgeous!' she squealed, her eyes clenched as if containing herself.  
  
I rolled my eyes and pitied her soul. How innocent that soul must be, I thought with a soft smile. Lucky girl. 'Yeah, cute, sure, so's every other squire here. But I was thinking on the lines of creepy.'  
  
It seemed everyone had a habit of staring at me like I'd got knocked down and had gotten some form of amnesia. That are-you-mad and I-think-there's-a- mental-ward-around-the-corner sort of stare. That's what stare Hayley gave me.  
  
'Creepy,' she said slowly, her face straight, as if she was talking to a kid from kinder, explaining to the kid that chewing on clay won't really do any permanent damage, but it'll be a hell of a load to get out in the toilet. And of course that it's not good for the kid's stomach or diet.  
  
'Yes, creepy,' I repeated. 'Look, forget it. What do you wanna do when we get back?'  
  
'I was thinking—'  
  
Hayley was cut off with a horse's frightened, hurt neigh, just as a pitched- scream of a girl rebounded and pierced my ears. I looked back to see both horse and girl on the floor and obviously the girl had fainted.  
  
I dismounted, so did everyone, and went to the girl and horse.  
  
It was Renee, one of Sandry's friends, lying on the floor near the horse, her face pale.  
  
'Get back everyone!' I shouted, slowly pushing people back to give the air some room to breathe. I hoped she was breathing. The wind can knock out the breath of you if it the fall was hard enough.  
  
So everyone moved back while I asked for some salts. 'Salts, anyone? I need salts!'  
  
Thankfully, someone had some, so I grabbed it and swung it underneath the girl's nose. After a while, she smelled the awful, nauseating stench and got up, coughing and groaning.  
  
I checked for broken bones—I had gotten into enough fights to know that sort of stuff—and bandaged her broken arm. Everyone around us wondered what had happened and I eyed Renee carefully, for two reasons. One: to see if looked dizzy so I could get to lay her down, and two: to see just what she was thinking. Not that I could actually read minds as in 'oh, she's thinking of juice', but rather words, main words of what the person was thinking.  
  
And for example if you wanted coke and you were thinking 'oh I'd really love some nice, cold, icy coke!' all I'd hear is 'nice, icy coke' or sometimes just 'coke' and from the emotions I could tell that you would love one.  
  
The emotions in Renee's head were "freak" "water" "dress" "dirty".  
  
The freak was me, she was thirsty, her dress was wrinkled and she felt dirty.  
  
Translation complete.  
  
I wondered where gratitude fit in. I'd helped her for God's sake.  
  
'There's water in the wineskin on your horse, your dress is fine and you look as clean as could be,' I said blankly, getting up and dusting the dirt off my clothes.  
  
She then gave me the "stare" everyone seems to love giving me. I could just hear her: 'Like, how the hell did you like, know I was like thinking that? Like oh my God!'  
  
I forced a smile and walked away, mounted my horse and went to set off back to the Palace. But the Yamani "squire" deferred that; he'd looked at me with a nasty grin, his eyes sparkling as usual. But this time they were almost dripping with secrecy. I knitted my eyebrows with frustration and impatience and forced my eyes to unglue themselves from his face. And then I went back to setting off towards the Palace. 


	10. Chap 10

When I got to my room, I decided to go to the market and look around to get my mind off trying to figure that squire out. But of course I couldn't buy anything because I had no money and was not going to go begging the King for some. I could always get a job…if anyone needed an unexperienced schoolgirl who hasn't finished school due to being transported to Another World, that is.  
  
I also decided never to mention to anyone that I was from the Other World. It kind of disturbed them and got them all jittery and frightened, which of course ended up annoying me to the degree of wanting to punch their heads in, my favourite sort of manoeuvre.  
  
But hey, once a freak, always a freak.  
  
So I went back down to the stable, waited for the late picnickers to settle back into their rooms—because I wanted to be alone—and then mounted Calmheart and set of with her towards where one of the guards of some sort had explained to me the path to the Market.  
  
I galloped down a few roads, swivelled a few corners and rounded up at a noisy, energetic, blustering open-mall sort of market with shops at every block and sellers calling out their 'good-deals' which were in fact the biggest rip offs on Earth. I smiled at the level of volume and welcomed the busyness of all people around me.  
  
All the past few days I'd been stared and judged for who the people knew me to be; the girl from the Other World. Well here no one knew and I could do what the hell I liked and not be judged, oh, because I'm from the boring, pathetic, excuse of a planet: the Other World.  
  
I regretted riding Calmheart though, because it attracted attention. Of course, there were a few people on horses, but they weren't casually sauntering around, gawking at the wonder of it all. I was. And if that didn't attract attention, then neither would a person having a heart attack on a bus, right next to you.  
  
Stopping near a fountain, I dismounted and leaned against the comfortable Calmheart, I patted her neck and sighed with contentment. I was now far, far away from any troubles that haunted me all my life; they'd disappeared once I'd stepped into this magical world. I was as safe as—  
  
—a girl with a sharp object—probably a sword or dagger—looming at her neck.  
  
'Great,' I mumbled, as a hand was groped around my waist.  
  
'Ye look like a nice sort'a girl, so would ye mind handin' over that nice, big purse o' yours,' a whispered, aggressive voice sounded in my ear.  
  
Wonderful.  
  
'I would, but use your eyes and see I don't have a damn nice, big purse! Dolt.'  
  
'I'd look again miss, 'cause I wouldn't want meself to be in th'mess ye'll be in if I don' hand over that purse,' was the dry retort.  
  
If it had been George, I thought angrily, he would believe me! Bloody amateurs.  
  
'Look, dude, as much as I love that feeling of a dagger against my neck, I could live without it. So if you'd just stop poking that thing into my neck, I'd be very grateful. So grateful in fact that I wouldn't do this.'  
  
I pinched hard between where his thumb and index finger connected, which made him yelp but didn't get the dagger off of my back. But I sent a backwards-kick, which was aimed at his groin, but since I was short it only hit his knees. But it worked and he doubled over for a few seconds, giving me a chance to grab Calmheart's reigns and make a run for it.  
  
I didn't even look back as I swung over the horse's back and thanked Roald for the training lesson.  
  
Only when I was quite a distance away did I look back.  
  
But there was no one there.  
  
Now if George had been that thief's King, he would have killed me in a gif. Not that George was a sort of cold-blooded murderer, but I meant I would have been in deep crap.  
  
I decided not to hang around the Market anymore until I acquired some sort of weapon. A useful one. A sword preferably.  
  
'Where have you been?' Hayley casually said, looking up from a book she was reading.  
  
I dumped myself on my bed and closed my eyes, ready to relax.  
  
'Market,' I replied after a few seconds.  
  
'You're mad! Without a companion? Thank God you're in one piece!'  
  
I laughed at how shocked she'd sounded. 'It's not World War Five Trillion out there you know, wait…has this world even had a world war yet? But anyway, I'd love to lie down here without—'  
  
Ironically, the door swung open, and two grunting boys stepped in, fighting each other with sweat down their temples as they shoved each other and punched one another in the face.  
  
Khalil and the Yamani squire.  
  
Both Hayley and me jumped and turned to look at them with exasperation. Boys will be boys. They were attacking and growling manly, all they needed was the caveman's hairy body and monkey face and there! Perfection of an imitation of an ape—except apes weren't insane.  
  
So me and Hayley waited for them to calm down and explain why exactly they'd decided to barge into our rooms and fight in our space and reek havoc in that certain space and room of ours.  
  
Of course that took quite a while—what with Khalil kicking and shoving and swearing furiously, and the squire crashing into and wrecking everything that had a possibility of being rather breakable and fragile, what time did the poor guys have for talking?  
  
I was lying there, clenching my fists and jamming my eyes shut, wishing them far, far away. Temper. Control. Need. Hit. Annoying. Dweebs. Those were my emotions. And no one needed to read my mind to know that because Hayley guessed what I would do if I got too angry and she was, in her soft and caring voice, trying to get the boys out of the room—quickly.  
  
But they looked so angry and ferocious and none paid attention to the poor girl's pleas.  
  
I, of course, was doing my best not to punch their heads together. So much for the peaceful picnic! The migraine was increasing by the second. You'd think the guys, after circling the wide room once, would leave and annoy some other people. But no, they circled the room and each other again and again. And I had to admit; Khalil was damn good!  
  
'Khalil,' I said. Too busy, try again later! 'Khalil,' I said, louder. No response or reaction.  
  
'KHALIL!' The guy practically groans in pain and hits the floor. I'd distracted him enough to get the squire enough room to hit him hard.  
  
But Khalil was up and on the squire in a second, punching him hard. The Yamani did what he was trained to do. Kick butt. And poor Khalil was being pounded. I was shocked, so my reaction was delayed.  
  
They were really fighting, not some I'm-the-man, no-I-am nonsense.  
  
I got up and ran to the two, who were fighting like two crocs over a scrap of meat, shoving the Yamani away with one quick push and punched his jaw and then his cheek. 'You bloody idiot!' I glowered at the Yamani. 'Are you trying to kill him?'  
  
I turned to Khalil and saw his limp, unconscious body lying on the floor. I ran to his side and tenderly touched his bleeding nose and mouth. 'Oh God,' I whispered, as I saw his puffed up lips and nose. His nose was obviously broken and he was doing all he could to hide the pain. Like a typical man. Was it so wrong to show that you're in pain? It takes more strength to cover up pain than not to, and strength is not what you could spare in these situations.  
  
I turned back to glare at the Yamani squire. 'You maniac! You mother friggin' maniac! Get out, get out now before I seriously murder you!'  
  
He clenched his teeth at me, narrowed his eyes, stood there for a while and then got the hint when I clenched my fist and left.  
  
'Hayley!' I called to the stunned girl, her eyes were wide and her hands were shaking. 'Call a Healer, hurry!'  
  
She very much nearly tripped over herself running.  
  
I closed the door because people had gathered around and then returned to tending to the closest friend I'd ever had—other than my mother.  
  
'Oh, Khalil, why do you have to be such a typical man?' I whispered, getting out my handkerchief and wiping the blood away. I needed water. I looked around and saw the vase on the desk and ran to it, threw the flowers out the window. The hole was big enough for me to dip the cloth in, even if it did smell of lavenders.  
  
When he woke up, I nearly threw my arms around him with happiness, but I was scared he'd broken something and I'd hurt him.  
  
'Khalil, is anything broken, other than your nose?' I asked, but his mouth was too puffed up to respond, so I told him to point to anywhere that hurts and he pointed to his chest.  
  
'The bastard punched your chest? Are any rips broken, any—'  
  
But he shook his head, almost angrily and pointed to his chest. No, his heart.  
  
I frowned at him. 'I'm not a love doctor but Serena'll be here in a sec. Is there any physical pain other than your nose and mouth?'  
  
He shook his head and I sighed with relief. 'Good,' I mumbled, finishing off the last wipe of blood on his face.  
  
His whole face was swollen and was turning a red-purple-yellow colour.  
  
He had a cut on his eyebrow and another one across his cheek.  
  
I wondered what had started such a stupid fight, guys always attacked at the teeniest insult—I'd seen it happen and had sometimes unconsciously started many of those stupid fights with guys myself.  
  
The Healer arrived then and I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled weakly at Khalil, assuring him Healers were just like doctors only they worked with their magic when his eyes widened at the glittery, bright blue magic spreading throughout him.  
  
When he was safely tucked in my bed—which was the closest to where he'd lain—and was sleeping peacefully, I got up and went in search for the bastard who I knew had caused all that trouble.  
  
I knocked on Roald's door—since Khalil had been assigned to the Prince's room and he'd considered the new squire a friend, I thought the shit would be there.  
  
The Prince answered, but I pushed past him and looked around the room.  
  
The beds' quilts weren't as soft and comfortable looking as my room and neither was it bright. The curtains had been drawn and the lamp turned on. I nearly growled when I saw the Yamani lying on his back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a lazy, careless look on his face. He wasn't even hurt!  
  
Storming over to him, I laid a punch to his face once again.  
  
His shocked expression came in a matter of seconds, and then he got up and realized who I was and snickered.  
  
Not as friendly anymore, are we?  
  
'You dare touch my friends again and I will break every single, tiny bone in your body! You get me you bastard?' Only I used more colourful, censored language.  
  
'Oh?' he said, touching the spot where I'd punched him with a dangerous leer on his face. 'How're you going to do that with you on the floor?'  
  
And sure enough, in seconds he'd grounded me to the floor.  
  
Roald came rushing to my "aid". But I was fine without him.  
  
My attack mode was set on and I was a punching, kicking and swearing machine as I brought my knee into a groin and cracked a few bones and stretched a few muscles that shouldn't be stretched as far as I stretched them. But the boy needed exercise.  
  
I also bit, slapped, pulled and did anything that could cause this scrap of living cells pain. He'd pay. And this was just the beginning. I said I was very protective of my friends. And I meant it.  
  
In the end Roald had to drag me away and throw me out of the room. I would have, with my rage, knocked the door down and got the jerk—the squire I mean—but he'd used his Gift. So I just banged on the doors and swore so loudly, Lord Wyldon came and slapped me. 


	11. Chap 11

So that's why I ended up in his dim, shadowy office, sitting on a chair and breathing heavily, containing myself and pinching the insides of my palm very hard as Lord Wyldon sat calmly in his chair across me.  
  
'Reem,' he said with a gruff, buggered voice.  
  
I sucked in my breath and wished for patience and looked up to meet dangerous, stubborn eyes and I just couldn't look into them without breaking into tears. I was just so whacked out. The adrenaline rush that had surged through me before had dwindled to nothing and I slacked back into the chair and my mind spinning at a dangerous rate.  
  
'Reem,' he repeated more sternly, causing my head to spin further.  
  
I groaned and looked up. 'What?'  
  
'I—'  
  
A knock on the door interrupted the beginning of his lecture.  
  
Roald came in and I knew it was Roald before turning around because let's face it, his alluring smell could be recognized from the other side of town. Well, no, not really. But I was calming down. Thanks to my exhaustion.  
  
'Lord Wyldon,' the Prince began with a soft but stubborn voice, 'I saw all that happened'—really?—'and it's not really her fault. My friends were having a rather personal conversation when a fight between them broke out and one of the boys ended up unconscious—and that boy happened to be Reem's closest friends. What was she to do but knock on our doors and demand they be opened so she could hear what he had to say for himself? I find no err in what she did.'  
  
Why thank you, Roald! Now I'm worse than in deep shit. I'm going to be the shit.  
  
Lord Wyldon raised an "I'm-so-totally-not-impressed" eyebrow. 'Really? Well it happens to be that I find a huge "err" in what this young lady has done, but I am far too busy to deal with such idiocies, send the squire—the conscious one—to me, I'll leave the King to deal with her. The squire I can deal with without getting headaches.'  
  
I smiled mock-gratefully and got up and sourly left the room, muttering curses on my way. Roald was ever faithful at my side.  
  
'Can you believe him?' I snapped. 'I "erred"? I'm not the one who threw punches at my mate and got him unconscious and—'  
  
'No, you're the one who nearly choked the squire to death,' Roald pointed out so unnecessarily and if that was his way of winning my poor maiden's heart, he was in for a big shock. Not that he was and not that I was thinking he was.  
  
So I did what I do best, I growled at him. 'I do not bloody think that I could have stayed by Khalil's side and thought "Oh, my best friend's been bashed, why don't I go give that squire a big, nice hug! He did such a neat job after all!"'  
  
I rolled my eyes with utter impatience at him and entered my room, to find Sandry talking non-stop to Khalil and I did not like the look in her eyes one single tiny microscopic bit. Where was Serena when you needed her? And where, in that matter, was Hayley?  
  
To cut myself some slack, I stood there quietly for a few seconds and then let myself go. 'Hey, you, cow. Get away from him and get out of the room. I'm very tired at the moment and I don't have enough strength to kick you out, but my friend here, yes the Prince, will gladly kick you and your silly, embarrassing face out of here.'  
  
Her face turned red and her eyes widened in outrage. So I nodded to Roald and he so reliably went over to the cow and dragged her out, just as she called me a very nasty name I am far too innocent to remember.  
  
Khalil merely lay there, breathing calmly.  
  
I went over to him and dragged a chair to his side, forcing a smile. But he could see right through me, being my best friend and all.  
  
'Don' smye if you don' wan' 'oo,' he said, which I understood, again being his best friend and all. He'd said 'don't smile if you don't want to'.  
  
But I wasn't interested in smiles. 'What the hell happened Khalil? Why did you guys get so macho on each other?'  
  
'I hur' you ouso go' 'n'oo a—' (I heard you also got into a—)  
  
'Don't you dare change the subject!' I snapped. 'Now tell me.'  
  
'It wath nothin'!'  
  
'Oh, sure, people start bashing each other cause like, its so totally the rage of today! Better start talking, Khalil, or I will break a few of your bones,' I assured him aggressively.  
  
He made a face—well he couldn't really, but he managed to get me to notice that he was making a face and not just squinting at me. 'I wath talkin' no'mawy to him 'bout you 'n' then he thtarted makin' fun of you and thayin all thith bullthit and I let my tun' thlip and he let hith thlip 'n' we go' into eesh other'th throath,' he explained patiently.  
  
(I was talking normally to him about you and then he started making fun of you and saying all this bullshit and I let my tongue slip and let he let his slip and we got into each other's throats)  
  
'Oh, wonderful, glad I have such a tough, you-run-I'll-fight, I'm-so-tough- I-could-take-on-a-dinosaur-and-only-end-up-in-a-gazillion-pieces, best friend! But I can fight my own wars thank you very much. If your jaw wasn't already wrecked, I'd break it for you! I'm not a coward you know.'  
  
I turned around to see Roald till hanging around near the door politely looking away from us. So Princely.  
  
'Hey, Prince Charming, you can go. Thanks a lot—you know about the Stump thing.' I put on my fakest, most grateful smile.  
  
'I thaid don't thmile if you don' mean it!' Khalil croaked in a burst of anger.  
  
Roald left with a grin as I turned around to glare at Khalil. 'Shut up, will you! God, couldn't the Healer have ripped out your vocal cords up to make you and everyone else happy! And no, don't give me that hurt look, I know you'd love to rip mine out any day!'  
  
The poor thing had to try to grin nastily, which ended in the pain shooting through his mouth again. 'Take it easy!' I said, my voice full of worry. 'Ok, I won't be the hilarious me again, I'll be boring.'  
  
'That'th not vewy hard for you,' he said.  
  
I shot him a warning glare before smacking his head. 'Fine then, I'm a gorgeous, boring babe!'  
  
He rolled his eyes.  
  
I felt a hand rest over mine and squeeze gently. I looked up at him and smiled, brushing away the strand of escaped hair from over his eyes. 'Don't get into fights too much, will you? I'd like to keep my sanity around this place.'  
  
'You know I couldth hear you thcreamin' your ath off from over here?' he told me. (You know I could hear you screaming your ass off from over here?)  
  
I laughed and blushed. 'Yeah well, I got my punishment for that,' I said, remembering Lord Wyldon and shuddering at the thought of what he would have done to me if Roald hadn't saved me. Again.  
  
So I ended up borrowing someone's bedroll and slept on the floor, allowing Khalil—who I thought owed me big time—to sleep on my comfortable, soft bed. It wasn't an easy choice but you didn't seem to have a choice when it concerned your best friend—or so I found out anyway. 


	12. Chap 12

The next morning, I woke up to find Khalil gone and the bed done.  
  
Grumbling, I got up, washed up and threw on the beige dress and then made my way to the squire's wing.  
  
I knocked softly as I stifled yawned.  
  
No one answered, so I knocked again.  
  
Roald opened the door, just as I'd been about to whirl around and go to the stables. I smiled and leaned against the doorframe.  
  
'Where's the hunky patient?' I asked.  
  
Roald raised an eyebrow, 'Who?'  
  
I chuckled, 'Khalil of course! My burly man! My hunk of the millennia!'  
  
'Well, I guess you learn knew things everyday,' Roald said with an amused grin on his face. 'You're…together?'  
  
'Together?' I gasped, mock-insulted, 'Understatement! We're bound together, our destinies are tied in a tight, impenetrable knot! No man will take his place in my life, except Jon,' I flashed an evil grin. 'But he's a bit old for me now!' I sighed mock-irritably. 'I suppose it's the Gods' will to punish me by impeding my love from me!'  
  
'There's always "your love's" son,' Roald informed me.  
  
I couldn't help but blush, 'Is that an invitation?'  
  
'If you'd like it to be,' he replied.  
  
'Well you do look a lot like your father,' I said, grinning as Roald chuckled.  
  
'Khalil's gone out,' he said, when he'd stopped laughing.  
  
'Gone out?' I said sharply. 'With who?'  
  
'Jealous, are we?' Roald teased.  
  
I merely rolled my eyes. 'Seriously, with who?'  
  
'I don't know.'  
  
'Now why don't I believe you?'  
  
He shrugged with a smug smile tugged at his mouth.  
  
I narrowed my eyes at him, 'Roald you'd better tell me!'  
  
'You don't call that jealousy?' he inquired, looking too pleased with himself.  
  
I sighed with exaggerated patience, 'Look,' I said, 'I just want to know where he is—and who he's with—to see if he's all right!'  
  
'You could have just asked me—if all you'd wanted was to see if he's all right.'  
  
'Why are you acting like this?' I exclaimed. 'Where's the sweet Prince gone!? What have they done to you?'  
  
'You're asking me,' he said, leaning in closer to me, his eyes close-up a dazzling blue that choked em up. His face was now very close to mine.  
  
Too close for comfort and my sanity, so I pulled back and forced a smile; I was never the type to go crazy over a guy, but Roald drove me insane, especially that he was the son of my "obsession".  
  
'I think I'll go now. Since some Prince won't tell me where my best friend is. And as a bonus to that, the Prince just broke a chivalry code! I was a lady in distress and he ignored me. Tsk tsk.'  
  
'Wait—' Roald called out, just as I'd turned away.  
  
'Hmm?'  
  
'There's a…ball in a few days, would you come?' he asked softly.  
  
'A ball?' I frowned. Balls were like proms—you get a date, dress up and humiliate yourself. Being fake is what it's all about. 'Look, I'd love to, but dressing up isn't all me, you know? And I can't just show up in my undergarments—I don't have an appropriate dress, since I've only just arrive—'  
  
'Wait!' he said again, disappearing into his room.  
  
Seconds later, he appeared at the door again with a parcel, a deep smile on his face. He handed the parcel to me.  
  
'What's—'  
  
'Shh,' he said. 'Don't open it now. Tell me by tonight if you'll come.' Then he closed the door and left me standing like an idiot, gawking at the parcel.  
  
I walked down to my room, closed the door behind me and sat on my bed as I opened the parcel.  
  
As I'd suspected—it was a beautiful, silky gown.  
  
It was an off-the-shoulder sleeveless gorgeous velvet dress, with indigo strips of embroidered threads crossing over each other going down to the hips, where a silky light blue thread was wrapped around the waist.  
  
It was simple and pretty.  
  
But it wasn't me.  
  
I knocked on the door again. No one answered, so I knocked three times more before opening the door without consent. There was no one in the room.  
  
'For God's friggin' sake—'I started, but stopped and jumped as I heard the door open. I turned around to see Khalil.  
  
'Hey gorgeous,' he said.  
  
'Spunk, you're a moron!' I growled.  
  
'What?!'  
  
'I just wanted to see where you were and this…this is what happened,' I cried, shaking the gown in my hand.  
  
'You bought a dress? What's that got to do with me!'  
  
'I dunno! I came to ask about you and suddenly Roald asks me to the damn ball and he gave me this dress!' I exploded.  
  
Why was I so angry? I asked myself. It was no big deal, so the Prince bought me a dress, there was probably an Op shop somewhere in Tortall where he could have gotten it.  
  
'He asked you to the ball,' Khalil said slowly, as if digesting the words.  
  
'Yes, that's what I said, didn't I?' I sat on the closest bed. 'I don't want to go, I came in here to tell him and he magically disappeared. Why did he do that? Probably like his father, stubborn as a mule and doesn't take no for an answer. Well I'm a girl who's just as stubborn as he is and I don't take shit from anyone. I'm not going means I'm not going!'  
  
'I'm going with Serena,' he told me.  
  
I halted completely. 'What?!'  
  
'I'm going—'  
  
'I heard you!' I snapped. 'Why are you going with her though? She's—I thought you—why?'  
  
Khalil just groaned. 'PMS already?'  
  
I narrowed my eyes gruffly at him and slapped his head. 'I thought you were scared of her.'  
  
He grinned. 'That was before we settled our differences. She's awesome,' he said, with a dreamy look on his face.  
  
'Oh,' I said softly.  
  
'So are you going to the ball or not?' he asked.  
  
'Who bloody cares,' I muttered, getting up and leaving the room. 


	13. Chap 13

AN: Hey guys, thanks again for the lovely reviews, helped a lot! And just wanna say be patient with me coz I've been real dull lately and that may reflect in my writing :P so bare with me! Thank you! *hugs to all!* I hope the next chaps aren't too crap! Oh and don't hold your breath on Roald/Reem *MUAHAHAH* I have evil plans my dear readers! (but then maybe you should hold your breath coz EVERYTHING'S possible! *hint hint*)  
  
  
  
I decided to go to the training fields.  
  
I sat on the grass a few metres away from the guys shooting with their bows and watched their techniques, taking them in and wondering if I could ever be that good. One of the squires caught me looking wistfully at him training, so he came over and smiled gently.  
  
'Would you like a shot?'  
  
'What? Yeah! Thanks!'  
  
I got up and brightened up as I held the bow in my hands. I'd only ever used a bow once and that had been in grade eight, in sports and I hadn't been all that good. I asked the boy to teach me, and he did.  
  
He pulled the arrow in place, doing it slowly for me to remember and then held the arrow in place at the back, wedged between his index and middle finger, while his right arm supported the bow. He shot the arrow and it landed somewhere above the centre of the bullseye.  
  
I whistled in appreciation and breathed in and out slowly before taking up the bow and aiming carefully. I squinted at the centre of the bullseye I was aiming at and pulled at the string slowly and then let go. In a quick second, it was flying and had slammed into the very outer circle.  
  
The squire chuckled. 'You're not aiming and you're not holding it up right.'  
  
I got out another arrow and he taught me more carefully, putting his arm around me and holding the arrow with me. 'Pull,' he ordered.  
  
I pulled.  
  
'Aim, keep an eye on the mark and the arrow you're shooting, sometimes you get shaky and it wobbles without you knowing, or it wobbles if you're pulling too hard. When you've aimed properly and checked the arrow is straight, then let it go, quickly.'  
  
I levelled my arrow to the centre of the mark, making sure it wasn't jittering about, and then let the string go, shooting the arrow into the mark, where it sunk into the centre.  
  
The squire clapped and grinned at me, winking. 'Quick learner, then?'  
  
I laughed and shrugged, handing him back his bow. 'Thanks,' I said, smiling gratefully.  
  
'Name's Kael,' he introduced himself, holding out his hand.  
  
I shook his hand and noted it wasn't as gripping and firm as Roald's but it felt smooth. 'Mine's Reem.'  
  
Recognition crossed his face, but he didn't widen his eyes with fear or shock, he merely kept smiling and said, 'You're the newest girl from the Other World, aren't you?'  
  
'I guess popularity isn't always such a bad thing,' I said, walking away to go back to my room.  
  
'I'll see you around then,' the squire called out.  
  
I turned around and nodded with a grin. 'Maybe,' I replied.  
  
What's with hunky squires and me? I thought, my heart picking up a pace.  
  
A note lay on my bed when I got to my quarters; I picked it up and read what it had to say:  
  
Reem,  
  
I need an answer; Mithros Reem, you'll be the jewel of the ball, dress or no dress! Promise me the first and last dance at the ball; please say yes,  
  
Love,  
  
Roald  
  
And so I folded the note and peered out of the window, my eyes gliding to Khalil, who was walking down the fields with Serena, laughing and happy. I snapped my eyes away and bit my lip as I made a decision; go or stay?  
  
  
  
'Reem?'  
  
I smiled triumphantly as Khalil gaped openly at me, clad in the dress Roald had gave me with pretty, glittering earrings I'd borrowed from Hayley, but under all that, I wore my boots. Fashion statement. Just like Drew Barrymore—Danielle—in Ever After!  
  
Serena had done my makeup; I'd only allowed her the mascara, black eyeliner and lip-gloss.  
  
My hair was twisted over my head, with a few strands out around my face and cute glittering clips cluttered around my head. I was simply dressed and loved it.  
  
'Yes, it's me,' I replied, sitting on the bed and sighing, my triumphant mood soddened by the fact that I had to face stuck-up, rich, spoilt snobs. It was just like back home—bitch at the nasties and get isolated.  
  
'What's wrong?' Khalil sat down next to me and put his arm around my shoulders for the comfort I needed.  
  
'Nothing,' I lied, not wanting to worry him about stupid, silly thoughts and doubts. I was so nervous that I'd embarrass Roald. The feelings I was experiencing were so strange and alien to me. I thought constantly of Roald and my heart beat faster when I heard his name. A crush; I was going through a crush and I wanted it to end. It didn't feel that good at all; my stomach was queasy and my throat had gone dry.  
  
'Don't lie,' Khalil reprimanded, frowning with disapproval at me.  
  
'Don't look at me like that,' I grumbled, shifting in my spot.  
  
'I won't have to if you don't lie to me. I know you upside down, inside out and whatever other way there is to know you and there is definitely something wrong; so don't go telling me there's nothing wrong.'  
  
I made a face at him and got up, 'C'mon, let's go!'  
  
He chuckled and shook his head, an evil grin on his face. 'You gotta wait for your date to pick you up in the limo, with roses!'  
  
I mock-gagged. 'Roses? One: Roald is not my date, he just asked me to go coz I'm new around here, and a Prince has to be nice to his fellow people. Two: if Roald steps in here with roses, I'll throw them out the window!'  
  
An eyebrow was raised. 'Really?' Khalil murmured. 'Then I dare you to do just that—if he brings roses.'  
  
I smiled and shrugged. 'Whatever, ok.'  
  
I caught his arm as he was about to ruffle my hair as per usual, a dangerous glare on my face. 'Don't you dare! I got a ball to go to, hold on ladies and gents, Cinderella is coming!' 


	14. Chap 14

The door knocked and I tensed. Khalil had stayed behind with me, as faithful as ever by my side.  
  
Khalil motioned impatiently for me to open the door.  
  
I glared at him and went to the door, taking a few seconds to take three quick breaths before opening the door.  
  
My face fell as Khalil's laughter rang ludicrously in my ears.  
  
Roald stood at the doorstep, three times as handsome and sexy as he'd been before…with roses.  
  
He smiled, 'You look dazzling.'  
  
I shot a dagger-sharp glare at Khalil before smiling winsomely at Roald, grabbing the roses, and without looking, throwing the roses backwards, where they shot out the window and plunged down, with a serine smile plastered on my face.  
  
Khalil snorted.  
  
Roald looked baffled and a trifle hurt.  
  
'Let's go,' I quickly said, tucking my arm under Roald's and steering him away from Khalil's roaring laughter.  
  
The ball was loud, noisy and suffocating; beautiful ladies clad in the latest fashions giggled and gossiped, while the elegant, handsome men conversed quietly with a few drinks here and there. Music was playing quite loudly and food was laid out on tables in a professional, sophisticated manner. All of that made me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome.  
  
I liked simple things; a small party consisting of close friends is my kind of fun. But walking around with hundreds of nobles that I didn't know at all was definitely not fun at all; it was infuriating.  
  
People kept looking at me and sneering, people I didn't know and vice versa, but they still judged me!  
  
I stared back at them as blankly as possible, clinging to Roald like you'd cling to a lifeline, while noble women looked me up and down and huffed, but turned to the Prince with sweet, dazzling smiles.  
  
I didn't know what Roald had been thinking, waltzing in with me in tow! I was embarrassing him; everyone hated me and loved him. I was the ugly freak; he was the hunky Prince. Total mismatch.  
  
'You want me to slip away and disappear into the wallpaper?' I murmured.  
  
'What? Why in the name of Mithros would I want you to do that?' Roald exclaimed, frowning at me as Khalil had done before.  
  
'Well…I'm embarrassing you!' I shot back, my eyes scanning ahead; I was right, the ladies were glaring at me and fluttering their eyelashes at the Prince, wondering why I, a freak, was strolling with the Prince.  
  
'Embarrassing me?' he chuckled. 'If it's anything, I'm probably embarrassing you.'  
  
'Yeah, right. The drop dead gorgeous, hunk of the millennia is embarrassing the queen of utter freakiness and grotesqueness.' I rolled my eyes at him.  
  
He halted and looked over at me for a few seconds, making me shift nervously. Was he evaluating me!?  
  
'You think you're…grotesque?' His eyes were squinted and he was actually angry.  
  
'Ah…yeah, I suppose.' I said quietly, trying to get him to keep his voice down, but he didn't get the hint.  
  
'You are the most beaut—'  
  
I cut in with a laugh and covered his mouth with my hand quickly, looking around; the ladies around us were staring at us, waiting for what we had to say to pass it down the hall and spread the "goss".  
  
'Look, you go dance with the "besotted ladies" for a bit, I need to get some fresh air, all right?' I said,  
  
He was about to protest but I turned my heel and found the closest exit, while I heard scornful gossiping thrown around the room; 'She's in love with the Prince!', 'The Prince is besotted!', 'The King will go mad!' and more hateful things that shouldn't be repeated and won't be.  
  
I breathed out a sigh of relief as I found myself in a beautiful garden.  
  
I walked around for a while, drenched with the dripping spit of rain from the growling sky, shivering in my clingy dress. Pity the dress would spoil so fast, I thought with a glum smile as I sat on a bench looking out to the damp, mossy garden of greens. I closed my eyes and breathed in slowly, my breaths coming in short gasps and letting go in short, puffy clouds.  
  
When I next opened my eyes, I jumped; Khalil was sitting beside me with a deep frown on his face. I hadn't heard him coming of course.  
  
'Hey,' I said, blowing against my cold fingers to warm them up.  
  
Khalil took my hands and rubbed them gently with his firm, warm ones. I smiled gratefully.  
  
'What are you doing out here?' he demanded.  
  
'I don't know…relaxing?'  
  
'You're at a ball! You don't relax at balls, you dance and flirt—not that I want you to flirt, far from it—'  
  
'Oh really, and why shouldn't I flirt?' I grinned.  
  
He let go of my hands and looked around at the garden. 'I don't think I like the idea of you flirting with guys. You're too young.'  
  
'Excuse me? This coming from a guy only seven months older than me who flirts with nearly every girl at the school dances?' I exclaimed loudly.  
  
He turned back to look at me and said, 'That's different, I'm older.'  
  
'Yeah, I'm seventeen, Khalil! Old enough to do anything…well in a few months I'll be eighteen, so yes. I can flirt with whomever I like.'  
  
He cocked an eyebrow and laughed. 'I can see you doing that, Reem. Sure. You, the anti-anything-to-do-with-boys, will flirt with practically every single man in that room?'  
  
'Do I look desperate?' I snapped.  
  
'See, you wouldn't,' Khalil replied with a triumphant smile.  
  
'What the hell are you trying to say?'  
  
'That,' he began, with a grin, 'you are terrified of gaining attention from guys.'  
  
'What?!' I exclaimed, laughing. 'I get heaps of attention from guys, sure I do. When I'm punching their heads in! Which is what's gonna happen to you now if you don't quit it.'  
  
His eyes twinkled dangerously. 'I didn't mean that sort of attention and you know it.'  
  
'Well what other attention is there, Romeo?' I rolled my eyes at him as I always do when he annoys me (twenty-four seven).  
  
'This,' he said as he gripped my chin, lifted it up gently and kissed me.  
  
I pushed him away as quickly as I could, my eyes as wide as they could go. I was furious. Khalil was the last person on earth that I thought would do this, I trusted him!  
  
'What the hell did you do that for you moron!?' I cried out in fury, my fists curled in tight balls as I glared at him.  
  
He just smiled. 'See, it kills you…the attention I mean.'  
  
I couldn't believe him. He, my closest friend, kisses me, without my consent and just for experimenting whether I really hated attention from guys.  
  
So I slapped him.  
  
'Feel lucky,' I snapped, 'if it were another guy, he'd be on the floor, with broken bones.'  
  
'Reem, I was just—'  
  
'You explained what you were "just trying to do", and bloody experimenting on me, your best friend, is the worst friggin' thing you could have done you asshole!' I growled, tears pricking at my eyes.  
  
'Reem?'  
  
Both, Khalil and me, turned to look at Roald stepping out from the door to the hall.  
  
'What?' I asked, forcing the tears back and regaining control of my emotions.  
  
'You want to come back in now?'  
  
I nodded and gave Khalil one hard look before following Roald back into the hall, feeling angry and vulnerable.  
  
'What happened?' Roald asked quietly, once we were dancing.  
  
'Nothing,' I replied, my voice strangely squeaking.  
  
'Right,' he replied with a look of utter disbelief.  
  
'Really,' I said with a smile, feeling something brush against my throat and tickle it. 'How's everything going?'  
  
'What did Khalil do?' Roald insisted.  
  
'Nothing,' I snapped. All of a sudden, a pang hit my head and my eyes burned without reason, but I forced a smile at Roald and held back the pain. 'Everything's all right.'  
  
Roald merely raised an eyebrow and remained silent, making sure his face was almost glittering with disbelief.  
  
My eyes scanned the hall, meeting for a brief moment the eyes of the Yamani squire, who was grinning at me, holding a glass of wine in his hand and swaying it slowly.  
  
I shuddered and turned back to the Prince.  
  
After a long silence, due to me trying to figure out where the pain I was experiencing was coming from, Roald said, 'I have to go for a week.'  
  
'Oh?' I said quietly, not really paying any attention, my mind on other things.  
  
'Yeah…sent to…since I'm…' I heard snippets of what he said, but I just couldn't focus. My head was spinning and I felt strangely harassed. I touched my fingertips to my head and closed my eyes.  
  
It felt like my mind was being shredded, piece-by-piece, and it was driving me mad. My head felt like it was on fire as it swung from side to side. I gasped for breath, wheezing as I gripped my throat and tried to breathe again.  
  
Roald was frantically calling my name, asking what's wrong, but I couldn't speak, all I did as croak for air.  
  
All of a sudden, a black fog burst through my head, it was overwhelming, I gasped for one last time and just before I slipped to the ground, I saw the Yamani squire, grinning as maliciously as possible, at me. 


	15. Chap 15

A/N: I might take a break from this guys…I'll post more chaps soon (a few days?), but I have to make time for other stuff…I might just post chap 16- 17, but that's pretty much it :)  
  
Groaning, I opened my eyes and shut them again as light proved too bright for my sensitive eyes. When I reopened them, I was in a strange, warm room with tan-painted walls and a strange, bright glow about the room.  
  
The same old woman from the hut on the first day of my life in Tortall grunted at me and felt my forehead with the back of her hand. She grunted again and walked out of the room, then came back with Roald and Khalil trailing behind her.  
  
'You have fifteen minutes, then you're out,' she growled at Roald and Khalil, her gaze threatening, with an edge to her voice.  
  
Roald and Khalil nodded politely and watched her leave the room before coming and sitting beside my bed on the chairs set out for them.  
  
I managed a weak smile, but it brought a throbbing, slow headache, so I let it drop. 'Hi,' I croaked, my voice strangely weak and throaty.  
  
'Hey,' they replied, smiling just as mildly before dropping the fake smiles.  
  
'How are you feeling?' Roald asked worriedly.  
  
'Fine,' I replied.  
  
'Well,' Roald said after an awkward silence. 'I'll go…tell your friends that you're fine.'  
  
Khalil shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes on anything but me as he coughed.  
  
'Khalil,' I said softly.  
  
'Hmm?'  
  
'You don't have to be so quiet. I'm not allergic to noise, God knows I've lived with it ever since the day I met you.'  
  
I smiled gently, but he just continued staring at the blanket, expressionless.  
  
'You know,' he said timidly, after another long silence, 'I didn't know life could be such a big deal until I saw you lying on the floor, looking dead and pale. I didn't know what to think, I didn't want to think, because then thought would lead to conclusions and…you looked dead.'  
  
'But I'm alive. Yes, it's me, Reem, in the flesh. As scary as that is, it's a fact, so face it bud.'  
  
He chuckled and held onto my hand, 'Don't ever do that again, alright?'  
  
'Yes, sir!'  
  
'No, really now,' he said seriously, cupping my chin in his hand. 'You worried me half to death. You know how much I care about you…'  
  
I gulped and smiled, 'Yeah, I know.'  
  
Is it me or is it getting too hot? I thought glumly.  
  
'Good,' he dropped his hand and combed his hair with his fingers, sighing. 'Now I'd like an explanation to why you fainted and scared the shit out of me?'  
  
I frowned. 'I don't know. I just felt…it's hard to explain. It's like I had no control over my body, like voodoo or something.'  
  
Khalil frowned back at me. 'This place is really…weird. I wish I'd read the books at least once, because I really don't get this…Tortall. I guess it was a mage who voodooed your body?'  
  
I laughed. 'No, mages wouldn't waste their time on a pathetic excuse of a human girl.'  
  
'You're right, nothing happened to Sandry.'  
  
I laughed again, 'True, true. Why does everything bad happen to the gorgeous babes with the hottest bodies?'  
  
'It's a curse for us beautiful people,' he grinned.  
  
'Out you get, the lady needs her sleep and you're scaring the life out of her with that face of yours!' the old lady snapped, glaring at Khalil as soon as she was inside the room.  
  
Khalil flushed and gave me a weak hug before scooting.  
  
The old lady was a Healer, I realized, as she spread her healing magic over my body and relaxed every inch of it. I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.  
  
I nearly jumped when I saw the Yamani squire sitting beside my "bed" when I next woke. My eyes opened and my mind jolted awake as I laid my eyes on "him". I was getting sick of his face, his irritating smile and the fact that I didn't know his name and had to refer to him as the "Yamani squire" or plain "him".  
  
'What the hell is your name, anyway?' I snapped, pulling the sheets tighter around me in sudden self-consciousness.  
  
He raised one perfectly shaped (probably plucked) eyebrow. 'Why would you want to know that?'  
  
'I dunno, maybe coz people have names for a reason? To call them by, smartarse.'  
  
He chuckled and looked past me towards the window outside. 'In Tortall, they call me—'  
  
'Who the hell are you, you mongrel and how did you get past me?'  
  
We jumped and turned to the old hag, the Healer, with strands of the grey hair sticking about her head in a wild way, making her seem crazier than she sounded. Her bright blue eyes were glaring spitefully at the squire, while her lips trembled with rage. Obviously, she was very protective of her patients…and I happened to be one.  
  
'I am a squire,' he replied coolly, and I felt like smashing that pretty, calm head of his.  
  
'And he was about to tell me his name, weren't you?' I eyed him sternly, unblinking.  
  
He made a face at me. 'Atkin.'  
  
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow, and the hag's turn to start swearing, in a very censored way, and push "Atkin" out of the hut, but he silenced her with a long, hard look and she, too obediently for my comfort, left the room.  
  
I gawked at him and shuddered, realizing he'd used his magic…  
  
'Why did you do that?' I screamed.  
  
He smiled smugly and sat back on his chair to "eye" me. 'Because I can.'  
  
'But…she didn't even fight you and I know she has the Gift!' I squealed.  
  
'A lesser Gift doesn't have much of a chance against a powerful Gift,' he replied calmly.  
  
I smirked. 'And you're the humble one aren't you? All modest and clean of guilt.'  
  
'I say the truth, I am powerful.'  
  
'And I'm Tinkerbell with her dusty magic.'  
  
He raised his eyebrows and gave me the popular look of what-the-hell-you- freak? And as usual, the twinkle reappeared in his eyes.  
  
'Don't worry…movie thing…from the future…maybe if you're powerful enough you'll live…oh, for another 5000 years or so and watch Peter Pan, it's really good you know…but I didn't really like the Return to Neverland as much, it was a good sequel and all, but it was no where near as good as the original! But you know…'  
  
I stumbled on, wondering why the hell I'd gotten so chattery as I yawned and exhausted myself by all the talking I was doing.  
  
'What time is it? I'm getting real sleepy, must be that old hag, probably slipped something in me with her magic and got me all talkative and now I'm bloody exhausted, would you mind handing me that glass of water, thank you, now where was I?—'  
  
I stopped myself and bit my lip to stop talking…I just couldn't stop talking!  
  
My eyes widened as I turned to look at Atkin, a strange, strangled noise came out of my throat as I felt a bubble of a scream waiting to be wrenched out.  
  
It was him doing this to me! But why? Why would he want me to babble on like the insane retard I was?  
  
The look on his face was impatient, waiting for something…  
  
Waiting for me to say something maybe? All I knew was that I didn't care for anyone to use magic on me, especially him.  
  
How dare he? I thought to myself, clenching my teeth as I tried to calm myself down.  
  
But my anger boiled and bubbled in me and thanks to my wonderful temper, it exploded with a rather unpleasant burst of insane words and the like. 'You bloody bastard! What the hell are you doing? Don't you dare use that bloody magic of yours on me, if I wasn't so damn tired, I'd kill you! And if I wasn't half-naked, you'd be dead anyway! Get the bloody hell out of here!'  
  
'Right… Look, I came here to see how you were. No need for the yells. And I am not using my "magic" on you.'  
  
He got up, no emotions betraying his face, and left quietly, swamping me with guilt as I fell back against the hard bed, grumbling to myself. But he sneaked me a nasty grin as he closed the door behind him. I swore loudly, enough for him to hear me, and bit my lip and the insides of cheeks until the last drop of my steaming anger was calmed once again into nothingness.  
  
Just what in the name of God does that moron want from me? I thought angrily.  
  
'Hey again gorgeous!' Khalil's cheerful voice boomed as he entered and arranged the flood of flowers around in my room. I'd been put back in my room the night Atkin had come to "visit" me. That was three nights ago now.  
  
'Hey,' I smiled back at him, throwing the sheets away and stretching and yawning as I slid into my slippers and gave Khalil a huge, engulfing, thankful hug. 'You rock…you know that? You are amazing!'  
  
He laughed and kissed my forehead, 'Yeah I knew that, just been waiting for you to admit it.'  
  
I made a face at him and tugged at his hair. 'My burly man speaks the truth…too plainly. Now get to it, burly man! Fix the flowers, fix my bed, fix the room and then fix my hair coz I'm a mess!'  
  
'Now that I gotta agree to!'  
  
I slapped his arm playfully, 'Yeah, yeah, the Mess of Hair has awoken, watch the people run!'  
  
He laughed again and patted my tousled hair. 'Come on, wash up, get changed and go have some breakfast, everyone's waiting to see you out of that bed.'  
  
'I cannot believe I slept for two days in a row!' I breathed, shaking my head with disbelief. 'Well, I'm off…'  
  
'Reem!!!!'  
  
I took deep, deep breaths and counted to ten before I entered the room and listened to the continuous squeals of 'OH MY GOD' 'REEM' 'YOU'RE AWAKE' 'YOU'RE HERE' 'GODDESS' 'YOU LOOK SO MUCH BETTER' 'SIT DOWN!' etc, etc…  
  
'Well yeah, I'm here, thanks, yeah I feel much better, mhm, I'm starving,' I replied, smiling as politely as possible and physically stopping myself from rolling my eyes and telling everyone to chill.  
  
I looked around the table, watching the faces and their emotions carefully with a sweep of a glance as they chattered on without a care.  
  
Hayley: face cheerful and openly kind as always, the hint of softness in her voice, she was as happy as ever. Serena: clinging to Khalil's arm with a satisfied smile on her face as she looked calmly and tenderly at Khalil, while he squeezed her hand back affectionately and smiled at me before turning back to Serena.  
  
And Roald…  
  
I turned away from his smile and looked out the window, unfocused and my mind swirling with different thoughts and emotions; like a washing machine, filled with dirty things that needed to be cleaned.  
  
'…and so later on…a week or so…not much…just fun…out…'  
  
Khalil was rambling on about a few things, but I was only half-listening, my mind and heart on other matters as my head continued to twirl with uncontrolled, wild thoughts of home, school, life, Tortall, friends and anything that came to mind.  
  
I sighed as questions came back to flood my mind.  
  
How was my mother? How was she coping? How was she paying the bills? Was she paying the bills? Has she begun binge-drinking again, or has she remained sober? Has she gone back to her depression and wallowing?  
  
If I had a choice, would I willingly go back to the modern earth? Or would I stay here in Tortall, where I'm comfortable and less aggressive and closed up? If I had a choice…  
  
It's always "if", there's always going to be an "if this happened" or "if that had happened", but will there ever be a real answer? Ever?  
  
'Reem! Pay attention!'  
  
I snapped back from my "daydreaming" and turned to Khalil. 'I am!'  
  
Suddenly, a messenger walked into the room with the usual serious tone and look. 'Reem?' he questioned, looking around the room.  
  
'That's me,' I said.  
  
'The Majesty requests an audience with you…privately,' the messenger stated blandly, opening the door and ushering for me to follow.  
  
Khalil gave me a small, sly smile as I closed the door. I knew what he was thinking: me, alone with Jon, oh no, sexual assault on the king!  
  
A few minutes later, I was alone in the room with Jon, sitting on a chair in front of his desk while he bowed his head in concentrating and scribbled down some notes on parchments that I would never even begin to understand.  
  
I tapped my fingers against the arm of the chair and looked about the messy room; it was a typical office with bookshelves and papers and candles strewn everywhere.  
  
Jon finally put the papers down and looked at me with those dazzling blue eyes, just as I felt my stomach flip over ten times. I gulped. He was so darned sexy.  
  
'So, Reem,' he said, smiling kindly.  
  
I had to pinch the insides of my palm very hard to stop myself from going gaga over him. 'Uhuh…' was my stupid reply.  
  
'I've heard of the two incidents that occurred while I was away from the Palace. Would you like to explain those… adverse incidents?'  
  
I stifled a laugh. 'Well…Atkin insulted me and Khalil—being my best friend and all—decided to play macho man and defend my honour by thrashing the Yamani squire, so they threw each other into my quarters and fought it out until Khalil had a broken jaw and nose, and many bruises. So I got very pissed and went looking for Atkin, threw a few punches of my own at him, and then I was kicked out by Roald. And then Lord Wyldon came and took me to his office.'  
  
Jon raised a perfect eyebrow and unlike other people, he hadn't paid big bucks to get them perfect, his were original and God/Gods' gift. 'Oh?'  
  
I was melting; I was, with as much honesty as possible, melting. He was so perfectly beautiful, gorgeous, sexy and damned handsome. I'd started obsessing over him ever since I read Tammy's books, the wonderful Goddess she is, and the obsessing increased—and that was surprisingly possible—tenfold when I reread the books at age fifteen. From then on, I loved Jonathon far too much for anyone's sanity around me, so I let it all out on Sheroes Central, the best website on Earth.  
  
I realized Jon had asked me a question, so I stopped the daydreaming and said, 'I really am sorry, but that shit—ah, I mean that idiotic, moronic squire went too far and I was so bloody mad—'  
  
'Shh, I understand. I merely asked if you enjoyed the ball.'  
  
I flashed back to the night and I felt myself groan as I finally remembered Khalil's little "experimentation". How could I forget something like that? I really do have the worst memory.  
  
'Well, other than the fainting bit, it was alright.'  
  
Jon laughed. 'Yes, that was quite a dramatic scene.'  
  
Then he fell silent and frowned. 'The Healer told me that there was something unusual…in you that is. She said that she had trouble getting that virus out of you and it only came out when she'd been spent for both, strength and magic.'  
  
I shuddered, remembering Atkin's silent grin at the ball, while I'd been dancing with Roald. I knew he had something to do with what had happened to me, but all I said to the King was, 'It's probably coz I don't have any immune against bugs in Tortall, so it looks different in me or something. I dunno, I'm no Healer.'  
  
He nodded solemnly and took my hand in his. My heart raced and raced and I had to keep reminding myself that he was married and that no matter how my imagination may work, there was no way Thayet was turning gay and running off with Verice to leave Jon for me…  
  
'If anything happens at all, anything,' Jon was saying in a serious tone, 'you come to me and tell me! You hear me?'  
  
I nodded, politely slipping my hands away and onto my lap. 'Yes, your Majesty.'  
  
Jon smiled with satisfaction and told me I could go.  
  
I sat in my room, on my bed, trying to figure out a way to go back home, to see my mum and tell her I was ok, that she needed to start looking after herself from now on. That I couldn't watch her every step and help her through every other step every second of the day. She needed to become independent and rely on herself.  
  
The door knocked and interrupted my thoughts.  
  
I opened the door to greet a boy who seemed a year or so older than me. I frowned at him after a long silence. 'Yes?'  
  
'Ah, it's Kael…remember? From the training fields?' he said softly, smiling.  
  
I groped for a memory of the guy and finally remembered the day I'd went down to the training fields and he'd taught me to shoot a bow right. 'Oh,' I laughed. 'Come in! Sorry, didn't recognize ya! I swear I've got the worst memory.'  
  
'That's alright,' he replied politely, stepping into the room like a true gentleman and stood there quietly, waiting for me to say something.  
  
'Please, sit down,' I said, not used to a guy so gentleman-like. It scared me. The only guys who'd treated me with respect were Khalil…and Roald. All my life, the guys I'd known were complete assholes who wouldn't care less if I just died right at their feet, they'd just step over me and walk away.  
  
So he sat down on a chair and I sat on the bed, facing him with uncertainty.  
  
I wasn't really sure why he was here…  
  
'So…how's the life of a squire?' I asked, grinning.  
  
He chuckled in return. 'Oh, tiring, irritating but fun and exciting at the same time, not what I expected when I'd first sought out to be a Knight.'  
  
'You don't know how much I envy you squires!' I said.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Look how much fun you have! You get to learn how to fight and survive, so that in an emergency, you're ready for practically anything and you get to meet lots of friends and your life is an adventure, unlike mine! I just sit around and wait for trouble to come my way so I can just have some fun instead of just lounge around pitifully and—' I stopped and laughed. 'I'm sorry,' I apologized with a grin, 'I ramble a lot, you just gotta learn to tell me to shut up…'  
  
'Trust me man, that does not work!'  
  
We turned to see Khalil grinning, with his arms folded over his chest, leaning against the doorframe.  
  
I made a nasty face at him before introducing Kael to Khalil. 'I know you won't find anything in common, I'm sorry, since Khalil, you're boisterous and a pain in the arse and my dear friend Kael is such a gentleman and damn spunky too!'  
  
'Are you calling me ugly?' Khalil questioned, his expression daring me to challenge him.  
  
I burst out laughing and shook my head. 'Ugly's an understatement!'  
  
'Oh really? And what are you?'  
  
'As you've told me many times, I am a drop-dead sexy hot babe with the best bod to ever walk the face of Earth and the Universe!'  
  
He looked at me for a few seconds with a shocked look on his face and then burst out laughing like I had. 'You? Sexy? Aw come on man! That's pitiful!'  
  
'Well, I'll have to say I'll always look better than you ever will!'  
  
Next thing I knew, my burly man had pinned me against the bed and was tickling the life out of me—only one thing, and he knew it—I wasn't ticklish.  
  
'You moron,' I laughed, pushing his head away. 'Get off me!'  
  
But he looked at my wrists with an evil, sly grin that just spelled out E V I L!  
  
'Oh no you don't!' I shrieked, thrashing my way out of his grasp, but he'd locked his arms tight about my waist and laughed mock-evilly.  
  
He tickled my wrists and I screamed and started giggling—that was the only place I was ticklish and he knew me too bloody well not to know that.  
  
'AH! Get off me! Off—'  
  
I screamed and giggled, screamed and giggled until Khalil stopped all of a sudden and turned around. And that's when I remembered that Kael was still sitting on the chair a few inches away from us, trying to look distracted and like he had nothing to do with the insanity that was Khalil and me.  
  
I stifled laughter and pushed Khalil away and straightened out my ruffled clothes. I coughed courteously and said, 'Ah, sorry, where was I? Oh yeah…thank you for the training with the bow and all, that was real nice of ya…'  
  
Khalil coughed as well and nodded, just like me, stifling laughter.  
  
We really, truly were idiots on the loose.  
  
'Um, yeah, well…yes. I think I'll go now.'  
  
The poor guy was beyond freaked out as he left the room as quietly and quickly as possible.  
  
I pouted and pulled at Khalil's hair. 'You've scared off my future- husband!'  
  
'I didn't do nothing to Jon!' he protested.  
  
I sighed. 'No, Jon is too old now!' I sighed mock-dreamily, 'Now Kael's my burly man!'  
  
'Hey! I thought I was!' Khalil growled, tugging at a loose strand of my hair.  
  
'Alright, alright, since you're so jealous, you can be my burly man!'  
  
'Jealous?' he huffed.  
  
I nodded with a pitying look on my face. 'I know, I know, you don't have to tell me, I'm simply irresistible!'  
  
'Yes you are,' Khalil replied gently, a smile tugging at his mouth.  
  
'Now that I didn't expect!' I said. 'Usually you're all, "my ass you are Reem" or "if you're irresistible, then I'm Bill Gates, ugliest man alive!" or even—'  
  
'Yes you are?' he cut in.  
  
'No, never yes you are!'  
  
The hand that was at my side was held hostage in his as he looked down at me with those big brown eyes.  
  
'But really now, don't—'  
  
'Shh…you know the night…at the ball?' he cut in, shushing me.  
  
I nodded, wondering where this was leading.  
  
'Do you remember…ah, well, do you remember when you were sitting outside in the garden?'  
  
I scowled and knew that it was leading to the "kiss". 'What about the kiss, Khalil?'  
  
He smiled wanly. 'It wasn't an "experiment".'  
  
'Oh?' I snapped. 'Then what the hell was it?'  
  
'Reem…I've—well,' he floundered and then sighed. 'It was real, ok? Something I never planned…but wanted.'  
  
I tried to tug my hand free and just leave the room, but he held on tight and cupped my chin with his other hand so that I had to look at him.  
  
'But what about me, Khalil?' I growled. 'Did you ever ask how I felt? If I wanted to kiss you? No! You just went on and did it and said all this bull that you knew would get me pissed, you didn't even—'  
  
He pressed his lips against mine—mainly to shut me up—and then brought his arms around my waist and then kissed me for "real".  
  
I shuddered and let my hands slip around his neck.  
  
He tore away a few moments later and smiled at me, while I tried to regain the breath that had been knocked out of me.  
  
'That wasn't so bad, was it?' he whispered, caressing my cheek tenderly.  
  
'You still didn't ask,' I mumbled weakly.  
  
'Fine,' he replied. 'Can I kiss you again Reem?'  
  
I glowered at him and knew I was defeated—but then so did he—because once again he brought his lips against mine and gave me one of those long-sweet- I'm-melting-give-me-a-bucket-of-ice sort of kisses.  
  
And I enjoyed every millisecond of it.  
  
But I wasn't thinking of Khalil while kissing, and that made me feel guiltier than I've ever been my whole seventeen years of life. 


	16. Chap 16

A/N: I might take a break from this guys…I'll post more chaps soon (a few days?), but I have to make time for other stuff…I might just post chap 16- 17, but that's pretty much it :)  
  
  
  
1 Chapter Three – The Secret Life of Him, An Exposé  
  
Two weeks later, after the "kiss", life seemed to go right back to normal—thank God—and Khalil was talking to me again, after a whole week of silence. He'd spent one week away, on some sort of expedition with the guys (squires I'm thinking) and had taken Serena with him—who still didn't know of the kiss. And the other week, he'd spent ignoring and avoiding me until I'd rounded him up in a corner and lashed out at him, verbally.  
  
'You better bloody talk to me!' I'd screamed.  
  
'I thought you didn't wanna talk to me!' he'd yelled back.  
  
Thanks to my PMS (yes, I had to stuff pieces of thick cloth in my "undies"), I burst out in tears and started yelling my butt off, until I just hugged him and told him I needed to go have some lunch, "I'm starved".  
  
So, I returned to my normal Tortallian life, as a simple, boring girl stuck in a world not her own but trying to make the best of it.  
  
Meanwhile, Roald was not even sparing me a glance, not since Khalil left on the "excursion". I didn't know what to think of it, so I just shut up and moved on with life. He was just a Prince after all, and Princes pick and choose their own friends, no questions asked. There weren't any rules stating; "a Prince must not ignore his future-princess while betrothed to another Princess".  
  
So I ignored him in return, but every once in a while I tried out a smile on him to see if he even remembered me, but he never even looked at me to notice my pathetic smile.  
  
'Reem, concentrate!' Hayley hissed, snapping me back from my daydreaming. Back in my world I'd daydreamed of Tortall and now that I was in Tortall…well I still daydreamed of Tortall.  
  
So there I was, sitting on a chair, in—believe it or not—an etiquette and everything lady-ish class.  
  
I was meant to be wearing these heels and trying to practice the "walk", but I couldn't bring myself to look at the damn things without gagging, let alone wear them.  
  
'REEM!'  
  
I jumped and turned to the teacher.  
  
'What the bloody hell did I do now?!' I snapped.  
  
She'd been at me for the whole of the past hour, bugging me every other minute to get lady-ish and start prancing around like a prissy young lady with her chin stuck right up in the air!  
  
Her face now looked pinched and blotchy as she gaped at me, offended. 'What did you say?'  
  
'I said—'  
  
'Don't get smart with me, young lady!' she cut in sharply.  
  
'Unlady!'  
  
'Excuse me?'  
  
'I'm an unlady, never a lady. I'd rather get my arse bitten off by a croc then ever be a lady.'  
  
The whole class was now gaping and gasping, muttering to each other how rude and provocative I was and that I should be kicked out of the class instantly, without warnings.  
  
I'd only come along because I had absolutely nothing to do and Khalil was with Serena somewhere and well…I enjoyed Hayley's company ninety-nine point nine percent more than I enjoyed the rest of the "Lost in Tortall" girls.  
  
The teacher was now huffing and opening and closing her mouth like a dying fish, her eyes bulging out of their sockets and the vein at her throat poking out very dangerously.  
  
'You…you…insolent brat!' she crackled in the end. 'OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY CLASS AND NEVER RETURN!'  
  
'Gladly!' I said with a smile.  
  
I passed by her and tsk-tsked, 'You know, you shouldn't be teaching us etiquette, you yourself aren't a lady, so how do we know that what you're teaching us is right, or at least legal?'  
  
'OUT!!!!!!!!' the old woman howled.  
  
Kicked out of etiquette class, I wandered around, roaming the streets with the dagger I'd borrowed from Hayley (her spare of course), and headed towards the market again, hoping to find something to do.  
  
But on the way, I bumped into Roald.  
  
He didn't look at me as he said, 'The King is looking for you.'  
  
Had he heard about the little episode in etiquette class, already?  
  
I sighed gloomily and nodded as graciously as possible and walked off to the Palace but Roald told me the King wasn't in the Palace, he was in some sort of new inn.  
  
'In public? Won't he be kinda vulnerable?' I asked dumbly.  
  
Roald sighed impatiently. 'Give the password: Circle of Thieves and they'll lead you to him.'  
  
'Yeah…ah, well how do I get there?'  
  
It hurt, but he looked about to find someone to show me, but there was no one, so he started telling me all these directions.  
  
I understood him, but I wanted him to show me (therefore, I get to spend more time with him…pathetic but yes), so I looked as baffled as possible and groaned when he was finished babbling. 'Look, I dunno the streets as good as you, so could you please show me?'  
  
'Can't Hayley show you?' Roald muttered, still not looking at me.  
  
'No, she's in etiquette class, I just got kicked out. Plus, I want you to show me!'  
  
So he led me there and ditched me as soon as we were at the door of the "inn".  
  
It didn't look new at all, in fact it looked dirty and ancient, the paint peeled, the sign at the top (which seemed to say Free Unhin, but I was later told it was actually Street Sunshine) handing loose and disfigured.  
  
The door was squeaky as I opened it and entered the grimy, rotten-smelling inn. There seemed to be a lot of people there, old men mostly, hanging around the tables and such, laughing drunkenly and talking too loudly.  
  
So I slipped quietly towards the bar and asked around for the inn owner, who was pointed out to be a shabby old man with many missing teeth and the worst breath possible. If I ate onions my whole life, I'd smell better.  
  
I breathed through my mouth and said: 'Circle of Thieves.'  
  
The old man eyed me sternly for a while, then nodded and told me to follow him.  
  
We went up some stairs and down some again and then went through a corridor, then into a dark room, where he opened some sort of secret door and entered a dead-dark "corridor", pulling me along blindly with his sweaty, swollen hands.  
  
We ended up in a large, comfortable room that included a double bed with normal, plain, un-kingly sheets (nothing like the Palace of course, or my room) and a small closet, cabinet, study-table and a few rugs here and there on the concrete floor. The room smelled of flowers and ink.  
  
Jon was sitting near the end of the room, talking earnestly to a serious- looking man with long hair who appeared to be exceedingly tall. I guessed it was Numair.  
  
The inn owner had left as soon as we'd entered the room, so I was left to stand awkwardly near the door and wait patiently for Jon to notice my small, insignificant presence.  
  
It took at least another fifteen minutes before he stopped talking and another few minutes to see me and call me over.  
  
I shook hands with Numair and asked a few polite questions about Daine, very disappointed that I didn't get to meet another shero I'd so desperately wanted to meet during my "visit" to Tortall.  
  
Numair left soon, leaving me to stare openly at Jon, wondering who would have been better looking, Jon at Roald's age, or Roald…  
  
'We need to have a serious talk Reem,' Jon said.  
  
'Ah, yeah, sure your Majesty.'  
  
'I've noticed you're fitting in very well here in Tortall,' the King commented, obviously wanting to talk about something else, but starting off with something light and easy.  
  
'Yep, sure. Just get to it, your Majesty, I really don't wanna hold you up and I may get wild ideas if I stay in here too long, alone, with you. You know being chucked in prison for sexually assaulting a King isn't on the top priorities in my life.'  
  
Jon's look was utter shock, but then after a few seconds, he burst into laughter. 'You really do speak your mind, don't you?'  
  
'Yeah, sure I do. Why wouldn't I?'  
  
He smiled and nodded, then quickly sobered up.  
  
'Well, what I really wanted to say was…stay away from Roald.'  
  
Talk about mood swings, I thought.  
  
'Excuse me?' I said, my eyebrows raised, my turn to look shocked.  
  
Jon frowned at me. 'He's been spending too much time with you, not enough time getting to know his betrothed, how much rumours have already spread? And they've increased tenfold since the ball! This treaty will go on ahead Reem, whether you like it or not.'  
  
'Jon—'  
  
'Your Majesty.'  
  
'Your Majesty, what you said was pretty harsh, I've never shown anything other than friendship to the Prince.'  
  
'But I know you can't say the same about him,' Jon said with a deep sigh. 'Reem, believe me, if I had a choice, I would let him marry who he wants but—'  
  
'I know, I know,' I said glumly, having read Tammy's explanation behind the forced marriage in the books.  
  
'Good, so will you cooperate, or will we have to force you to?' Jon asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
'Force me?' I smirked. 'No one forces me to do anything, King or not!'  
  
Obviously, I'd offended him, because he pursed his lips and was quiet for a bit.  
  
'Cooperate Reem, for Roald's sake. You do know he'd only pretend to love you so—'  
  
'He can get back at you for the arranged marriage?' I cut in, angry now. How dare he force me to do anything? I wasn't part of his world; I never wanted to be part of his world if he was going to force me to promise to stupid things like staying away from my own friends. My own mum had never said anything like that, who was he to? The King of Tortall? Well I wasn't from Tortall, I had no rights in Tortall and I had no real status in Tortall, not even a thief or peasant, so therefore he didn't rule me!  
  
'Yes,' Jon replied gravely. 'Exactly.'  
  
I laughed nastily. 'I'm sure of that Jon! Of course, marriage went well for you! Hell, when you proposed to Alanna, everything went so well and perfectly! So Roald just has to share the same experience of a loving, mutual marriage, huh?'  
  
His eyes clouded. 'This has nothing to do with me!' he snapped. 'Just stay away from him and all will be well!'  
  
I snarled and got up to go. 'I really used to look up to you Jon! I loved you, obsessed over you for God's sake, but now…now you're just a friggin' spoilt, self-centered King!'  
  
I never expected Jon to be so irrationally harsh. I understood he wanted the treaty to go on ahead and I was all for it, but he just completely jumped to conclusions. I'd never try to destroy the treaty, ever. Hell, I was not even a threat. The Prince liked the Yamani Princess, not me. And even if he did like me, one: he was responsible and smart and would be sensible enough to marry the Princess to keep the peace and two: the King should just stuff it where he wouldn't like it and leave the Prince alone.  
  
But I knew thought number two was just pure silly and immature of me, but I wasn't the one telling anyone to stay the hell away from their friends because I'm scared they're going to influence them and destroy the peace I had worked so hard to create.  
  
But even after all that, I was still infatuated with Jon dearest. Yes, I'm crazy, insane and have no brain to speak of. But Jon was and would always be my hero and my make-belief future-husband. I repeat, yes I'm insane.  
  
I realized the only reason Roald had been ignoring me was because his sweet old daddy, the King, had told him to stay right away from "that she- devil"…me. Well, no one was going to keep me away from my friends, King or peasant.  
  
'You asked for it Roald, now you're getting it…' I said quietly, smiling distantly. 


	17. Chap 17

I found out that there was going to be a ball in a few days, and so I set my plan in motion. I went up to Hayley two days before the ball and told her I wanted her to do my makeup and all for the event, I wanted to look so damn gorgeous that the King would bow to me. (Maybe not that far, but yeah, a girl can dream…)  
  
Hayley was obviously surprised—she'd even bit her tongue to show me her surprise—and quickly agreed before I'd "change my mind".  
  
In fact, she was very excited, so excited that she wanted to practice it all on me at that moment, but I looked at her with horror and screamed that one time would scar me, I didn't want it to kill me…  
  
Then, all I had to do was write a note to Roald, telling him to pick me up at nine o'clock and we're ready to go.  
  
And I did, the morning of the ball.  
  
  
  
Roald,  
  
Pick me up at nine.  
  
Love,  
  
Reem  
  
  
  
Clear, simple and to the point.  
  
So there I was, half an hour before the ball, clad in a gorgeous satin black dress that I'd borrowed from Serena, and the makeup light but adding that extra bit to my absolutely fabulous looks. Emphasis on fabulous. Note the sarcasm.  
  
The door knocked.  
  
My heart raced.  
  
'Coming!' my voice croaked. I got up and took a deep breath as I looked in the mirror.  
  
The black, long satin dress slimmed my muscle-toned body a tad, the silver belt that held gorgeous studded-diamonds sparkled prettily and "lit my eyes", as Hayley had said when I'd wore it to give her an idea of what colours she would pick for my makeup.  
  
I looked at my reflection again, the black net-shawl over my shoulders with a mocking smile on my face as I privately laughed at the mess I was. My hair was tied back in a bun, while a few curls bounced down around my face.  
  
The knocking on the door made me jump and take another deep breath as I opened it.  
  
I let it out and said in disappointment, 'Khalil.'  
  
'It's great to see you too, gorgeous,' he said, grinning.  
  
I rolled my eyes and pulled him in, poked my head out and looked towards either end of the dorm corridors and then shut the door.  
  
'I thought you didn't like dressing up?' Khalil said, sitting on the bed.  
  
I screwed up my nose in obvious disgust. 'I don't!'  
  
He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head towards me. 'Then what's all that about?'  
  
'A silly scheme.'  
  
He chuckled. 'I should be used to your evil hatchings by now…but I'm not! Well whatever it is you're doing, I don't wanna know, that way I got nothin' to hide from the King if he wants to torture the information out of me. In fact, I don't even know you!'  
  
'Yeah, yeah! You coward! Don't even stick by your best mate!' I said, poking a finger into his chest in accusation with a smile.  
  
'Yeah, I can say exactly the same about you too!' he replied, grinning and poking me back.  
  
'Nah uh, I stuck up for you at school, when those girls you went out with…in ONE NIGHT…found you out and decided to thrash you. I helped you out then! Didn't run off like a—'  
  
'Well how about that time when that gang had tried to thrash you? You'd made fun of the gang leader's sister, and he was pretty pissed, so he came after ya…and I helped you, as always! So what do you think about th—'  
  
'That's pitiful!' I cut in. 'Remember the time that girl you went out with in year ten? The Asian one with the nice eyes? Remember the boyfriend she had, and had never told you about? But he found out about you? Well, I got you out of it—'  
  
'—by bashing the life out of the guy and ending him up in hospital, with a broken body? I'm surprised he didn't charge you for assa—'  
  
'It's called SELF DEFENSE!'  
  
'Sure it is,' Khalil replied mockingly.  
  
I was about to "playfully" punch him when the door knocked and I took a sharp intake of breath before turning to Khalil with questioning eyes. 'Do I look ok? Presentable?'  
  
Khalil laughed. 'What do you think?! You spent well over bloody four hours getting ready! Or so Serena told me. That's a new record, your old record was ONE minute, what's happened to you?' He actually had a frown on his face, a disappointed frown.  
  
The door knocked again.  
  
'JUST A MINUTE!' I shouted and turned back to Khalil, smiling grimly. 'Really, this is just a payback.'  
  
He smirked and then bent down and kissed my cheek. 'Have fun then!'  
  
'You're not coming!?'  
  
'Ah, no, I promised to take Serena out, and she didn't want to go to the ball, said it wasn't private enough for her,' he said, grinning.  
  
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. 'Young love! Well, I'd better go now…thanks for dropping by! See ya!'  
  
I opened the door and took Roald's arm in mine and steered him towards the ballroom, noticing his look of utter shock and hiding a small, triumphant smile behind my shawl.  
  
'What did they do to you?' he gaped.  
  
I stopped in my tracks and dropped his arm. I raised an eyebrow as my mouth carved into a sly smile. 'What? Do I look terrifying or something?'  
  
'No…no, you—I, well…' he floundered. 'You look absolutely amazing.'  
  
'Oh?'  
  
He laughed, 'You know you do, I can read that look on your face very clearly.'  
  
'What look?' I asked innocently.  
  
'That look! The one saying 'oh-he's-fallen-in-the-trap-now'…'  
  
'Oh you're exaggerating, I'm just thinking it's a gorgeous night for a couple to be out in.'  
  
'Yes. It is,' he said, gently slipping my hand into his rather large, gripping one. Blood rushed through me too quickly, and I felt myself actually blushing as I pulled the shawl tighter around my shoulders against the cold, gusty wind.  
  
Moments later, we arrived at the ball room, my head held up as I walked past the women who'd mocked me the last time at the ball.  
  
They didn't recognize me this time, and were smiles only as Roald and me glided past them, Roald's eyes ahead of him and mine at the Throne of the Royalties.  
  
I grinned nastily at Jon as he looked at me and gasped, shock obvious on his face. He had been talking to a pompous-looking man but when he'd seen me with Roald, arms linked, he'd stopped. And looked.  
  
Roald bowed and I curtsied—not too brilliantly, but as gracefully as possible. It was all part of the childish plan I'd thought of after the argument with Jon.  
  
I winked at Jon as he babbled a greeting to Roald.  
  
He frowned at me and uttered a dismissal, but I said, loud enough for him to hear but soft enough for no one else to, 'You can't win Jon, he's already mine.'  
  
I didn't give him a chance to answer, I led Roald off and away into a quiet corner where we could hear each other talk against the loud instruments playing and the chatter of ladies and gents.  
  
'My father can't win what?' Roald demanded.  
  
I scowled at myself privately for not being as evilly sly as I should've been. 'Oh, nothing. Private joke.'  
  
'Uh-huh,' Roald replied with a grim smile, disbelief obvious on his face.  
  
'Anyway,' I said quickly, 'let's dance!'  
  
And so we did, and soon, Jon came over and cut in, asking "politely" for a dance with me. I smiled and nodded just as politely in return as he took my hand and waltzed with me.  
  
'What have you got planned for tonight, Reem?' he whispered, a knowing smile on his face.  
  
My eye twinkled. 'Oh, nothing your Majesty! What could I possible have planned for this brilliant, bubbly ball? It's already perfect without my plans!'  
  
'Oh…now that I'd never believe. Out with it. What have you plotted?'  
  
'Your Majesty! You mock my innocence!' I replied with an exaggerated hurt look plastered on my face.  
  
'Innocence? Any innocence left in you deserted you a long, long time ago. And so did your common sense, discipline, self-assessment and—'  
  
'And my brain?' I cut in, laughing. 'What about my sanity? I'm afraid my sanity betrayed me the day I was born!'  
  
Jon chuckled. 'True.'  
  
'But insanity can be innocent and pure. And so I am, innocent to the degree of insanity!'  
  
Jon made a face at me. 'That coming from a person lacking a brain?'  
  
'Is that a compliment?'  
  
'If it was, then I'm a God,' Jon stated dryly.  
  
'Well, I bow to thee, O God of Sexiness!' I mock-praised, bowing my head with a grin.  
  
He laughed and then glanced at me with a thoughtful look. 'I still don't trust you, Reem. I know you're very put out with me, and I don't blame you. But my reasons stand, just don't do anything illegal, all right? I don't want to have to arrest you. I'm quite fond of you as a matter of fact.'  
  
'The God favours me! Bow down to me, all of you!' I exclaimed.  
  
Jon grinned and rolled his eyes. 'How old are you? Three?'  
  
'Oh, but I can act far older than that,' I said, grinning as I stroked his cheek smoothly.  
  
He raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes again. 'You have absolutely no respect for your King whatsoever.'  
  
'No, no I don't. But you can change that you know!' I exclaimed, mock- excited.  
  
'Oh?'  
  
'Mmhmm! All you gotta do…is let me do what I want!'  
  
He burst out laughing and shook his head, as if with "sympathy" for my shortage of brain cells. 'I'm sure every noble would love that.'  
  
'But they don't want what I want,' I responded, my eyes boring into his, emphasising on what I'd just said.  
  
'And what do you want?' he asked.  
  
I leant over and whispered into his ear, 'You.'  
  
He broke into a coughing spasm and his face turned beetroot red.  
  
'Jon, are you ok?' I asked, feigning concern as I pounded his back to get him breathing again.  
  
After a while, he quieted down and looked at me with two wide eyes.  
  
'You…are evil.'  
  
I smiled gently, 'Why thank you, your Majesty. That is of the highest compliments you've given me today.'  
  
He made a face at me as we stepped back into the "dance floor" and waltzed away.  
  
'But,' I added, 'you even admitted that you were fond of me!'  
  
'So?'  
  
'So you're in love with me. As well.'  
  
The look on his face was too unbearable, and I burst out laughing. He had looked so utterly traumatized; it was as if I'd told him he had an hour to live.  
  
'Come on, rate me…out of ten,' I encouraged him with a winsome smile.  
  
I suppose he decided to play my game and pulled me closer to him, so that I was face-to-face. 'It depends on what you're talking about.'  
  
If I hadn't been melting before, I was evaporating now.  
  
Up-close, he was even more amazingly sexy and heart melting, I had to count to ten before I could talk without sounding like too much of the lovesick, obsessed freak that I was.  
  
'Ah…my looks,' I finally murmured, my eyes wide as my heart skipped a few beats—which might have been bad, but I was too busy gawking at Jon to care.  
  
'Easy,' Jon declared. 'Eleven.'  
  
He swung me back away, 'Especially tonight.'  
  
I was practically squeaking. 'Quit trifling my maiden's heart! You're married for God's sake!'  
  
Jon raised an eyebrow. 'That hadn't seemed to worry you a few moments ago.'  
  
He pulled me back in, and I ended up with my arms around his neck, having to go on my tiptoes since I was so damn short.  
  
'I'm young, I'll learn, you're supposed to be the guiding adult!' I said.  
  
The song ended, the King laughed and walked me back to my little, private corner, where I glared at him.  
  
I hadn't expected him to "retaliate". I'd thought, yeah I'd win him over and then bug the hell out of him, but I hadn't expected him to play my game.  
  
'So you insist?' Jon asked.  
  
'What?!'  
  
'To go on leading on Roald and then pulling out and breaking his heart at the last minute?'  
  
My eyebrows shot up in surprise and I shook my head after a few seconds. 'No! I never plan on that, ever!'  
  
'Mm.'  
  
I scowled at Jon.  
  
I was serious.  
  
I hadn't really planned out this trip to Tortall, hadn't really mapped it out and said "Oh, I'm gonna end up with Roald!"…well maybe I'd daydreamed about it, swapping Roald for Jon though.  
  
But did I want just that now? I thought somberly.  
  
Maybe…  
  
All I knew was that I loved being around Roald, loved the sound of his voice, his mesmerizing sapphire eyes, his dark skin, his way of thinking, the way he dressed…  
  
Did that mean I was in love?  
  
Or did it just mean I was infatuated with father and son? That Roald was just a second choice to Jon, since I couldn't really get with a married man?  
  
I mean I'd never really considered Roald as my favourite character when I'd read the books, but now he was even beating Alanna and Jon…and that was a pretty huge thing.  
  
And since when did I, the all-around tough one who never looked twice at guys, ever fall in love so lightly? And to a Prince of all people. I could have at least fallen in love with someone I could get with without having competition and strict rules and regulations hanging at my head.  
  
Sighing, I switched back to real life—Tortall that is—and realized Jon was gone, and that I was alone again.  
  
Well, not quite alone actually.  
  
I grimaced and turned to go away, hoping he didn't recognize me. But of course, to my delightfully superb luck, he did and smirked.  
  
'Lady Reem,' Atkin greeted, making out the three syllables into a kazillion ones, as well as making my name sound like a car rolling into gear and setting my teeth on edge as I clenched and unclenched my fists, stopping in my track and turning to look at him with a frozen smile.  
  
'Squire Atkin,' I mumbled, curtsying.  
  
'I see you've been taking etiquette lessons. I suppose that's another addition to your charming traits?'  
  
I forced myself to laugh, my eyes in the process glaring into his, hearing the unspoken.  
  
Surprisingly, his shields were lifted and a few words escaped from his mind.  
  
"assassin" "tomorrow"  
  
My eyes widened and I probably gave myself away, because he gasped and quickly rose up his disturbingly strong shield and muttered a quick goodnight before melting into the crowd—altogether disappearing.  
  
'An assassination tomorrow, obviously,' I whispered to myself, my eyes still wide and unfocused as I thought of a way to tell the King without getting myself mixed up in this.  
  
I did not want another fight; I wanted to fit in here in Tortall. It wasn't like back at home where I didn't care and just let fights happen and allowed my reputation dwindle down to absolutely nothing but horror.  
  
I wanted to live normally, not have to fight for survival, but just live.  
  
But I gave up the notion of telling the King. I mean what would I tell him?  
  
'Yeah, Jon, I read his mind and yeah, I heard "assassin" and "tomorrow" and yeah, they're gonna assassinate someone tomorrow!'  
  
For one, he'd be on my head about my "powers" and I'd be slammed onto a hospital bed and examined by curious and uncaring mage-scientists-kind-of- people.  
  
Two, I didn't have enough information or proof.  
  
So, in conclusion, once again, I had to take care of the situation myself and slam that arsehole, Atkin, in a rotting jail with the rats and evil monkeys outnumbering his puny, brainless self.  
  
I nodded in satisfaction and looked about me, saw that there was no one I knew, and slipped away through the small backdoor near the quiet corner.  
  
Another "dangerous" mystery for me to work out and put my life on hold for.  
  
And another episode where Khalil will find me bleeding somewhere in the Palace, unconscious. 


	18. Chap 18

A/N: I'm very sorry, this chap isn't as good as it should be! Thanks again for the reviews, I love hearing your opinions on my story, coz I think it belongs in the bin :P But anyway, here goes!  
  
  
  
I quietly packed my books and things and left the busy classroom, saying a quick "goodbye" to the teacher.  
  
Khalil was waiting outside the class for me, his own books in his hands. When he saw me, he shrugged off of the wall he'd been leaning against and walked beside me. We started making our way to the Market, as we'd done ever since we'd started going to "school".  
  
Jon had decided that the girls sucked in from the Other World deserved to get an education, like real women, and sent us off to etiquette classes, which I had swapped for real classes. Like Maths, Science and Art.  
  
The King hadn't been too happy, nor had the guys in my class, when I'd demanded my right as a new citizen of Tortall (which I'd applied for and got accepted, of course) to be educated as an equal.  
  
The day I "demanded" my rights, Jon went right off, screaming his head off at me, saying there'll be a revolt if he ever let me in with "men who are after a real education". But the next day he surprised me by sending me an apology and saying I could do what I damn well liked (Thayet or Alanna had probably had a nice, long chat with him, in my favour), so long as I remained civil and didn't do anything illegal.  
  
Now that was going to be hard. (Note the sarcasm)  
  
So there I was, in Tortall, getting an education.  
  
And on the hunt for the secret life of Atkin.  
  
I still hadn't found any proof at all, and no assassination had happened the day after the ball, in fact, three weeks had passed since the ball. But I was on to him, I gave him the greasy whenever I passed by or saw him, and countless of times I'd gotten into a (physical) fight with him, where Roald, Khalil and Wyldon had had to tear us apart and send us to our rooms.  
  
It was quite nasty.  
  
'—so I think we should go, just this time, I mean you never know,' Khalil was saying.  
  
'Hmm?'  
  
'This party…I'll tell you later.'  
  
We stopped in front of his room and dumped off the books. Just as we were about to head off, he said he had to go ask Serena something first, so I waited patiently in his room.  
  
'Well, well.'  
  
I jumped and turned to see Atkin, arms folded across his chest, leaning against the doorway, the ever-present sneer splattered across his face.  
  
'Now this just made my day,' I said dryly. 'The positive-peak of my day, actually.'  
  
He ignored my comments. 'What are you doing here?!'  
  
'Do you own this room?' I asked calmly.  
  
'What does that have to do with why you're here?' he shot back.  
  
'Why are you yelling? I can bloody understand without you yelling!'  
  
'Now that's bloody laughable! You don't understand bull, yelling or not!'  
  
'I understand that you're a friggin' asshole, with an imaginary brain and a very screwed up personality!'  
  
'Oh and you're perfect are you?'  
  
'I never friggin' said I was, and I never act or talk like I'm a God like you do!'  
  
'You don't even know me you dumb slut!'  
  
'Don't you dare call me a friggin' slut!'  
  
That was the point where all my anger spilled and I attacked, throwing a punch and receiving a kick in return.  
  
In conclusion: hair was torn (from both parties), bones were cracked and muscles were stretched—too far—and that's how Khalil found us and dragged Atkin off and away from me.  
  
  
  
  
  
And that's how I ended up in the Stump's office, anger still boiling dangerously.  
  
'You?' Wyldon snapped, sitting at his desk. 'Again?'  
  
I blushed and turned away from his intimidating glare, looking instead at the dim, cobbled floor.  
  
It hadn't been my fault that asshole Atkin and me had nearly killed each other. He'd called me a bloody slut, what was I supposed to do, take the abuse with a smile and later on write him a pretty little thank you note?!  
  
'Well, what did you do this time?' Wyldon was growling like a hungry grizzly bear.  
  
'I thought you'd be informed,' I grumbled.  
  
'Lord Wyldon.'  
  
'Why do they always send me over to you, "Lord Wyldon"?'  
  
'That's what I would like to know. But since you are under my care, it is my duty to punish you.'  
  
'For what?' I yelped.  
  
He looked at me indifferently. 'For attacking a squire and invading a squire's room without permission.'  
  
'Attacking a squire? Invading?! You weren't even there!'  
  
The Stump sighed with exaggerated patience. 'You are to be banned from the lessons which you have been taking, which I find very inappropriate for a girl like you to be studying—'  
  
'Why do you find them inappropriate for me, Lord Wyldon?' I cut in fiercely.  
  
Sexist pigs didn't quite make it to the top of my favourite-people's list. In fact, there were only a few people on that list. About five.  
  
'You're a woman, what jobs could you take on if you studied Mathematics? There is no hope, no opportunities, so why do you even bother?'  
  
'To prove to sexist idiots like you that we can make it if you give us a bloody chance!'  
  
I could see the slow flow of steam rising up from his ears as his eyes bulged and his face turned red.  
  
'You,' he said, in between gritted teeth, 'shall be banned from your lessons for three weeks, you will clean out the stables every night of those weeks and you will replace your normal lessons with etiquette classes, maybe then you'll learn some respect to your elders…and Royalties!'  
  
'I've very friendly with the Royalties, Lord Wyldon, it's just sexist bigots who don't deserve respect that I despise.'  
  
And that's how I nearly got kicked out of the Palace.  
  
  
  
  
  
'Jon—'  
  
'Your Majesty!'  
  
'Ok ok…your Majesty, I'm telling you, it wasn't my fault, really, I mean—'  
  
'Oh?' Jon said with raised eyebrows, a slow smile curving his lips. 'And how can't it be your fault, Reem? Lord Wyldon doesn't request permission to kick a young girl out of the Palace for no reason.'  
  
'With all…respect…to Lord Wyldon's decision, I find many, many, many, many—'  
  
'Get to the point Reem,' Jon sighed.  
  
'—many flaws and errors! I mean, I demand a rebut!'  
  
'A what?!'  
  
'A chance to speak the truth!' I exclaimed angrily.  
  
'I'm listening.'  
  
'Well,' I started, 'I was waiting for Khalil to come back from wherever he was, in his room, which coincidently is also Atkin's room, when Atkin walked in. I was ok with it, until the "conversation" heated—'  
  
'Oh give me a break Reem! How many times have you and Atkin's conversations "heated" up and ended up in bloodshed these past few weeks? I am sick of hearing the same thing over and over! I'd like to know exactly why you two despise each other so much! Then tell me not to kick you out of the Palace for highly insulting Lord Wyldon, a great man he is, abusing a squire countless of times and treating yours truly, by coincidence your King, with no respect…and chasing after the Prince even though you were ordered not to!'  
  
I huffed and glared and growled, but it did no good, so I sighed and fell into the chair opposite Jon's desk, where he was sitting on his high, comfy chair of Royalty.  
  
'Look, I'm glad you trust me so much, and think so highly of me, but Atkin has been deliberately rude, insulting and nasty towards me. I don't see any reason to accept that sort of attitude and hatred from someone I hardly—and in no way want to—know.  
  
'But I am really not to blame here. I wouldn't have thrashed him if he hadn't called me a very despicable name.'  
  
'And what was that?' Jon asked coolly.  
  
'I don't think—'  
  
A knock on the door interrupted our little pep talk.  
  
'Come in,' the King called out, aggravation crossing his face as he sighed irritably.  
  
A messenger came in and bowed, with utter respect, to the King and said in that dry, apathetic messenger voice: 'The Prince requests a private meeting with you, Your Majesty.'  
  
My eyebrows shot up. His son had to request a private meeting to be able to see his own father?!  
  
Jon's face automatically relaxed and to prove his moodiness, he seemed actually elated now.  
  
'Yes, of course. Immediately…' the King concluded, dismissing the messenger and turning back to me. 'You may go back to your room now, but you shall obey the orders of Lord Wyldon, is that understood? Etiquette classes from now and for another three weeks, and if you miss out on even one lesson without a VERY good reason, an addition of a week will be added to your punishment.'  
  
I was defeated.  
  
'Yes, Your Majesty,' I grumbled, as I got up and walked out of the room.  
  
I passed by Roald at the door and smiled, but he gave me the coldest look I could have ever witnessed, not even the slight hint of recognition on his face as he wordlessly closed the door behind me, leaving me to stare at the door dumbly and wonder how I'd screwed up this time.  
  
  
  
  
  
My third day at etiquette class and I was nearly having a breakdown.  
  
Jon had picked a different class than the one I'd gone too with Hayley, the one where the teacher had nearly had a heart attack, because of me of course.  
  
This class, if possible, was worse.  
  
I couldn't stand the pompous, giggly teacher, the excited, boring "ladies" who were coincidently my peers and the whole damn class that was filled with bustling woman who were putting on the fakest show of "striving towards becoming a decent lady".  
  
All they were really doing was creating a selfish, air-headed shell about them, hiding their true personalities, and learning to say "yes, of course, with all pleasure" to whatever a man said.  
  
I bet if one of them got married and had gotten bashed up by her husband, she'd smile and say "thank you, sir!"…  
  
But I had to cut them some slack, they seemed to want so bad to become a "lady" and fit into society, that only seemed to accept bimbo-headed weakling of girls who'd obey their men till death and back, that they were taking classes for it.  
  
It was revolting.  
  
'Come on, Reem! Let's try the quiz together!' a girl called Desra said with such a bubbly, pitched voice that I had to physically stop myself from laughing.  
  
She was the spitting image, and voice, of a "true lady" of Tortall.  
  
Her long, silky dark blond hair gracefully fell down her slender body, to her waist, and her sparkling blue eyes were filled with innocence, while her full lips pouted out sulkily.  
  
'Ah, right, ok…' I mumbled, following her to the "quiz area", where the teacher would put forth a situation for us and we'd have to analyse it and come up with answers to the way we act and speak.  
  
I was so bored, I decided to play around with the ladies' minds a bit.  
  
The teacher beamed when she saw me come up to her private desk with Desra. 'Well, Reem, you've finally decided to join us!'  
  
I was laughing hard on the inside, insults flying everywhere, but I just smiled and nodded. 'Fun for all!' I giggled and looked as dumbly as possible at the teacher, who seemed delighted at my change.  
  
'Well,'—she always loved to start her sentences with "well", as if everything she said was well-thought—'I suppose you'd like to start with the quiz!'  
  
She pursed her lips and tapped her quill against the inkwell in silent thoughtfulness. Moments later, she said, 'Uh-huh! Got it, all right ladies.  
  
'You are face-to-face with a thief, who's already stolen your purse, he has a dagger at your throat and is threatening to kill you if you don't give him more money! What do you do?'  
  
Des was nearly squealing as she fought to think hard and come up with a solution.  
  
'Easy,' I said, smiling.  
  
'Yes, Reem?' the teacher said with excitement.  
  
'You give him more money, and then when he's about to run off with it like a bloody coward, knuckle him down and pound the shit out of him, and then take the dagger off him and throw it away, kick him some more, and then take back your money and leave him to rot and die like the scum he is.'  
  
The whole class was silent—my voice was relatively loud—and the teacher looked so mortified, I had to smile casually for her to blink and remind me she's not the statue of Mortification but a human lady who's out to destroy the free spirit of young girls.  
  
Des was squealing still, but this time she was disgusted and was trying to think up something good to insult or degrade me with, but she was well-trained and could only huff and puff, as if re-enacting the Big Bad Wolf.  
  
'No,' the teacher breathed, now angry. 'No that is not at all what you do! How dare you use that language? You're not a lady…you're…you're a boy!'  
  
I couldn't contain myself, so I burst out laughing. 'A…boy? Is that all you could come up with!? God, you really do have air whistling around the space where your brain should have been, don't you?'  
  
Gaping at me, the teacher found the brain cells to bring her hand up to slap me, but I was very well-trained thank you very much, and held her arm back.  
  
'Don't bother.' I smiled down at her—surprisingly enough, she was shorter than me—and dropped her arm.  
  
'Get out!' the teacher shrieked, her spit just missing my face.  
  
'Oh, you etiquette teachers are great, you know. Realizing how bloody desperate I am to get out of your boring, manipulating classes,' I spat at her ruthlessly, eyeing her sternly before collecting my books and walking out of the classroom.  
  
'I cannot believe Wyldon made me do this!' I was growling angrily to myself while I walked pretty quickly towards my room. I wasn't looking in front of me to see where I was going, and to the utter sake of cliché, I walked right into someone and my books got thrown about.  
  
'How wonderful!' I snapped, collecting my books. 'This is just happy hour isn't it! Thanks man, just what I needed!'  
  
'Sorry,' the person mumbled in reply.  
  
I looked up to see who it was and my stomach did triple-flip, and by the time I had control over my body again, Roald had already turned his back and walked away.  
  
If I went after him, technically I'd have to apologize for whatever it is I have or haven't done to get him so upset and we'd be friends again. If I didn't go after him, well then he'll just cool off and apologize to me for being so distant.  
  
'ROALD!'  
  
He stopped and looked back.  
  
I ran to catch up to him and when I did, I blurted out, 'Roald I'm so sorry!'  
  
'For what?' he replied coolly, not bothering to look at me.  
  
'Exactly, I don't know. So tell me.'  
  
Roald looked over his shoulder, as if someone was after him, and turned to me and sighed. 'You haven't done anything. Please, just go!'  
  
'Then why are you ignoring me?'  
  
'I can't talk right now. I have to go,' Roald dismissed me with irritation, turning around and walking away.  
  
'The Prince break your heart?' a whining voice from behind me made me jump.  
  
'Get lost Atkin,' I growled impatiently, and slowly made my way back to my room, my original path.  
  
'Never trust Royalties. They get bored easily,' Atkin purred, very quickly getting on my nerves. 'And anyway, the Prince never really wanted you.'  
  
I turned around and glared irately as possible at him, wishing he'd go away and stop me from thrashing him and ending up under Wyldon's spiteful sneer again. 'Yeah, and you really care.'  
  
He walked on beside me, smiling innocently. 'And why wouldn't I care?'  
  
'Coz you're an emotionless bastard,' I said, smiling back, just as innocently.  
  
'Ouch, that hurt Reem. Come on, don't you wish we could have became friends?'  
  
'Oh but being enemies is so much more fun!' I replied, mock-cheerfully.  
  
He grabbed my hand and twisted it.  
  
'I know you read my mind at the ball, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to get involved,' he suddenly hissed, his grip on my hand painful.  
  
'Let me go,' I snapped, shaking his hand off.  
  
'If I see you trying to read my thoughts a time again, I will personally make sure you'll die a long, painful, torturing death, got that?'  
  
His gaze was threatening as turned around and walked off.  
  
It's not me who's going to pay, Atkin, I thought solemnly. Just pray I don't catch you, because if I do, there will be no long, painful death. Your life will be so miserable and full of hate, you'd throw yourself in flames before you'd face another day of it. Have fun while you can, I'm watching you and I'll keep watching you until the day you start your long, miserable life in hell… 


	19. Chap 19

A/N: ok, so I admit, I've been slack and this chapter ain't so great and pretty uncreative, but I felt I had to update, so here's a dull chap for you guys to laugh at! Thanks for the lovely reviews guys!  
  
' "Today, in this room, I stand alone,  
  
Where yesterday I stood so happy and warm,  
  
You left me and went to your "true love",  
  
When I'd always thought I was the one." '  
  
  
  
My second hobby: poetry.  
  
My hated poetry category: love poems.  
  
What that poem was: a love poem.  
  
Reminding you what kind of poems I hate: love poems.  
  
Got the picture: I'm hoping.  
  
So, Wyldon heard of my little evil-doings in Etiquette and told me that this was my very last chance at fitting in. And so he sent me off to a Poetry club, where I could "express my hate towards the world and its people with a quill and inkwell".  
  
He didn't realize that I actually loved poetry, that I was sensitive in that area, and not all-around tough like I enjoy portraying myself as.  
  
'Reem,' the teacher, Sir Kaller, called out from his desk, motioning for me to get up and read my lovely poem.  
  
I nodded and got up with the sheet of paper stood at the front, looking at my peers.  
  
They were all guys; I'd never expected that.  
  
Weren't girls good enough for poems either?  
  
Oh, no, otherwise, Shakespeare and his little merry followers wouldn't have dominated the charts of best poets, because women kick men's arses in poetry. We're the "touchy-feely" sex.  
  
I coughed and read out my poem.  
  
' "This destruction around me is bringing me down,  
  
My life has no meaning in this crazy town,  
  
Brother against brother, sister against sister,  
  
Each person's thoughts cause me to shiver.  
  
  
  
I don't understand how people can live,  
  
In this world of chaos, this world of filth,  
  
I scream and scream, yet no one hears me  
  
This selfish world has blocked its ears.  
  
  
  
So my prayers are vivid, so bright and true,  
  
But no one realizes, they have no clue,  
  
Their eyes are closed, their ears are blocked,  
  
The truth, the lies, by nothing they are shocked.  
  
  
  
Each night I wonder, if I'll be saved,  
  
If this was all a dream and I was merely dazed,  
  
It would be so nice, to sink into a heaven,  
  
Where love is not blind and the truth is not hidden.  
  
  
  
Some day, some day, the world will tire of its vanity,  
  
That day, I'll learn the true meaning of sanity,  
  
Because the world was crazy, soon it will rejoice,  
  
For the poverty and illness shall fade, God make haste." '  
  
  
  
I looked up from my piece of paper and saw Sir Kaller looking at me thoughtfully, with a hint of a wry smile on his seemingly ancient and withered face.  
  
'Thank you,' I quietly mumbled, sitting back in my seat.  
  
  
  
'You bloody—'  
  
'Count them and weep babe!'  
  
'Go to hell! No way!'  
  
'Oh yeah! Damn hell way!'  
  
'God!'  
  
'Yep! Come on, pay up!'  
  
I averted my eyes from the scene ahead of me. Khalil and Serena were playing "poker", while I was sitting in a corner of the room, on a very comfortable chair, reading a David Eddings book, which I'd borrowed from one of the girls in the dorm.  
  
Trying to block out their noise—Khalil and Serena's—was like trying to block out an earthquake or hurricane, or some other uncontrollably loud disaster. They went on, and on, and on, and on…  
  
And they were having so much fun, laughing and joking and teasing…and here I was, pretending to read when in fact, I was miserably sulking.  
  
Atkin was infuriating me with his elusiveness, Roald still wouldn't—and for no apparent reason—talk to me; Khalil was driving me mad with his poems for Serena, which he never actually gave to her; the King's continuous lectures for me to quit my "relationship" with Roald, which was nonexistent, because Roald wasn't even talking to me, but I wasn't about to tell that to the King. And last, but not least, I was desperately homesick.  
  
I didn't know why I was homesick; I mean I'd hated it back in my world; the fights, the people, the life…just everything. But now I was aching for it, because there, I knew what to expect. I knew what I was doing and where my life was leading to: uni and adulthood. Whereas, in Tortall, I was lost; I didn't know what to think of people, what they thought of me, how I was going to end up. I was just another girl. I was supposed to grow up to be a gentle lady, get married and have kids.  
  
I couldn't do that. There was no way I could live my life like that.  
  
I had to go back, that was all I knew.  
  
But that didn't mean I wanted to go back "home" and stay there.  
  
I didn't want to, but I felt like I had to, if only to see what I left behind, if it was worth coming here—even though I had no choice.  
  
Did anyone miss me?  
  
Did anyone even realize I was gone?  
  
Khalil's rowdy laughter snapped me back from my lost, forever circling thoughts, and I sighed as I looked out the window.  
  
The world was grieving; the swirl of dark grey swamping the sky and drenching the earth with its sad tears, the wind blowing its sympathy carelessly, thunder shuddering its remorse and lightning bolting down its condolences.  
  
Gloomy days equal moody Reem.  
  
Sighing again, I got up and left the room silently.  
  
  
  
Once I'd had a bit of lunch, I decided to go for a stroll through the Palace to clear my mind. I was too edgy for my own sake and I had to release the tension.  
  
So there I was, walking away through a dim, cool corridor at the deep end of the Palace when I heard the shuffle of hurried footsteps, and upon instinct, jumped into a dark corner, opposite the person coming.  
  
I watched intently as the shadowed figure stopped a few feet away from me all of a sudden and started mumbling to her/himself.  
  
He/she was barely audible, all I could hear were snatches, so I probed gently with my "mind".  
  
I received feelings of fear and anxiousness, with a few stumbles of words along the way: "assassination" "tomorrow".  
  
Again.  
  
I shook my head and tried the probing again, with the same outcome. I sighed and looked to see the person leave, so I waited a while before following him/her deeper into the corridor.  
  
The man, I'd found out he was a man of middle-age and pale qualities, led me to a squared hallway. I crouched in the corner away from the squared hallway, but in plain sight of the person who stood in the middle of the four opposing doors.  
  
He seemed confused, lost and frightened as he lifted one shaking hand that revealed a slender, golden key that he tested out on all of the doors.  
  
I cursed to myself, wondering how I was going to be able to hear what was happening.  
  
The man suddenly whirled around and looked somewhere close to where I was crouching. I took in a deep breath as he scanned the murky corridor, and relaxed when he turned back to trying to fit the key to the right door.  
  
About to move in closer, a strong hand clasped my shoulder and jolted me to a stop. I was about to kick the person unconscious, but the familiar hiss stopped me. 'It's me!'  
  
I let out my breath gratefully and turned to see Roald directing an angry frown at me.  
  
'What?' I mouthed, frowning back.  
  
He looked up to see the man closing and locking the door behind him, disrupting all my plans of finding him out and punching the life out of him until he stuttered the truth of his devious, murderous plotting.  
  
Roald obviously had other plans as he grabbed hold of my arm and tried to lead me away, but I pushed him away gruffly and shook my head stubbornly.  
  
'What the hell are you doing here?' I whispered angrily.  
  
'I followed you in!' he snapped back. 'What are YOU doing here?'  
  
'I followed him!'  
  
'Why?' Roald asked with obvious suspicion.  
  
'Because—'  
  
Another two men shuffled over to the hallway and opened the right door, then as quietly as possible, closed it behind them.  
  
I was about to say something when Roald stopped me, his hand flew to my mouth, disallowing me of blabbing 'OH MY GOD!'…  
  
'Shh!' he hushed, concentrating hard as he stared at the closed door.  
  
I tugged his hand off and frowned at him. 'Look, I got no time for this, I have to—'  
  
'SHH!'  
  
I sighed and sat back down against the wall and tugged up my legs, placing my head in the middle of my two joined knees.  
  
After about ten minutes of silence, Roald grabbed my hand and dragged me off into a run back the way we'd come from, only this time he used one of those necessary palace secret-doors and such.  
  
We ended up, somehow, in his room, panting from the run—well I was anyway.  
  
'Why…the hell…did…we run?' I puffed, feeling rusty. I shouldn't have been breathing so hard; I'd probably got unfit here, I hadn't exercised or played any sport for ages.  
  
'Because I heard what you wanted to hear,' Roald replied steadily, dumping himself gracefully (with Roald, anything's possible) onto a bed.  
  
'Say what?' I asked dumbly.  
  
'You went there to eavesdrop didn't you?'  
  
I nodded shamelessly. Why should I feel ashamed? I wasn't the one holding an assassination tomorrow!  
  
'Well, I eavesdropped for you, since you obviously couldn't just waltz into the room, declare your right as a woman to hear what they have to say and then bash the life out of them for not liking what you heard.'  
  
I made a nasty face at him and then laughed. 'True…'  
  
My curiosity got to me in the end of course. 'What did they say?'  
  
Roald shrugged. 'Nothing you'd find interesting or worthwhile.'  
  
Of course I didn't believe him, but I pretended to as I shrugged.  
  
'Roald?'  
  
'Hmm?'  
  
'Why the hell were you ignoring me these past few weeks?'  
  
His eyes quickly slid from the floor to my face, then back to the floor. 'Ignoring you?' he said slowly.  
  
'Umm, yep… You know, not talking to me, not even looking at me, avoiding me…'  
  
He sighed. 'It's…nothing.'  
  
I fought hard not to get angry and tell him to LOOK AT ME DAMMIT!  
  
'Alright…well look, I'd better go now before the Stump jumps down my throat for "invading" this room again.'  
  
He looked up at me again and I swear I could see disappointment in his eyes. And I also "probed" a bit. Accidentally. Unintentionally. I'm a crap liar; I did it to prove to myself that he wasn't ignoring me because he hated me—as stupid and childish as that may sound—and had finally come to his senses and realized I was not someone he wanted to be seen with. Thank God that hadn't happened…yet.  
  
'All right,' he finally said, getting up. 'But…when…when can I see you?'  
  
It drained all my reserve of self-control not to scream, instead I squealed. 'Any…any time…'  
  
Oh great, I just admitted I have no life.  
  
'Ok…' he smiled and then kissed my cheek with uncertainty.  
  
I couldn't care less who waltzed into the room at that moment, so I kissed him softly.  
  
He was shocked at first and did nothing, but then he took both my hands in his and pulled me in closer…and kissed me back of course.  
  
I was enjoying it; that much I admit. I was ecstatic actually. He was so sweet and gentle…it wasn't like he'd ever forced me into anything or ever went too far; he'd always done the right thing. The right thing being exactly what I want at the time.  
  
Nothing could have dampened my mood…  
  
Well, almost…  
  
'Well, well, well…'  
  
Roald and me jumped apart and then turned to see the Stump leaning against the door with a fuming look on his face.  
  
'Bloody day…' I mumbled dryly, silently following him into his office…again.  
  
The Stump's office was a second home to me now; a place of wonders and awaiting punishments and lectures. Home Sweet Home. 


	20. Chap 20

A/N:  Agh, long time no update! So here's a long-ish chapter :) Oh and sorry for pissing ya off with the stubborn horse Kaye and the fact that Roald and Reem hadn't kissed till..wow..chap 19 ;) I'll try and get in some more action…censored I'm hoping…oh and there might be a lot of swearing in this, so beware little children! (those of you who are that is)

Probably the weirdest conversation I've ever had was the one with the Stump, after I got busted kissing Roald in his room—which I'd been banned from of course. 

It went somewhere along the lines of this:

'I'm disgusted,' the Stump declared gruffly, seating himself in his chair pompously as always and looking down at me with one twitching, raised eyebrow.

'So am I…Sir!' I chirped with a grin.

'You?! YOU'RE disgusted? YOU did not stumble upon a pupil who you'd BANNED from talking to or ever seeing the Prince and to your total shock and disgust, you find her KISSING the bloody Prince! Now THAT is disgusting!'

'Lord Wyldon!' I exclaimed. 'Just because you've never kissed a girl, doesn't mean its disgusting, in fact, try it some time! It's pretty—'

'EXCUSE ME!?!'

'Lord Wyldon, Sir, with all due res—'

'PAH!'

'—pect, I'm telling you, it's NOT that bad! Sure it doesn't LOOK too healthy, with all the, you know…umm, saliva swapping and all, but in the end…I mean, originally, we used to pick FLEAS off one another and eat them…how gross are we? So saliva swapping is NOTHING compared to th—'

'Would you mind getting to the point?' the Stump interrupted so rudely that I glared ferociously at him.

'What I was TRYING to say and was so very RUDELY interrupted, was that you shouldn't be so disgusted by something you've hardly experienced—'

I stopped and looked up at the Stump to see his fuming, frothing self, looking at me with such profound rage and bitterness that I actually shut up. 

'You…don't get it, do you?' he finally struggled to say in the end, his voice coming in a slow puff.

My eyebrows mechanically rose. 'Get what, Sir?'

He sighed and slowly rubbed his temple with his thumb. 'Look, Reem. Tell me, with all honesty…are you going to keep on seeing Roald?'

This time only one eyebrow rose. 'I suppose, so long as we're in the same world.'

'What?!'

'Well,' I said, purposefully slowly, 'you see if we're in the same country, same building, there is a huge percentage of a chance of me actually bumping into or seeing the Prince—'

'DON'T get smart with me, young…girl!' Lord Wyldon barked madly.

'Wow, you noticed I'm a girl, I'm flattered!' I mock-gushed, twirling the end of my curls with fluttering eyes.

'Of course I noticed—' he stopped and realized he'd been "baited". 'Why can't you just be a nice and normal lady for a few moments!'

'Oh, but I can!' I squealed with mock-delight, nearly "jumping" at the idea.

He rolled his eyes. 'Of course you can, I never doubted it for a second.'

'No, probably doubted it for as long as you knew me.'

'True.'

'But, as a lady, I forgive you and offer my sincerest apologies for the trouble—'

'Chaos, suffering, anguish—'

'I get the point!' I snapped, glaring.

'ANYWAY, as I was saying—and you shouldn't have interrupted a nice, young lady like me—that I apologize and hence, I am forgiven, as a lady should be. Am I right, Sir?'

'Forgiven?' he softly murmured, staring at me blankly.

'Umm, yeah!'

'A real lady does not say, umm yeah, when addressing a gentleman, or anyone for that matter.'

I chuckled. 'Why sorry, dear Sir, I didn't realize how rude and insulting I could be when I let my tongue slip! I am upon my knees, grovelling for mercy! Do not beat me, I merely wanted to fit in so badly into this society, that I spoke like them!'

The Stump squinted his eyes at me, his patience spent. 

'Be quiet.'

'Yes, Sir!'

'I said be quiet!'

'Immediately, Sir!'

'Get out!'

'Of course, Sir!'

'Would…you…get…OUT!' he screamed, taking deep breath in between words, trying his best to maintain his posture. Obviously he failed.

'What?! I don't get a punishment?' I gasped.

I saw him clench a paper tightly and scrunch it up with obvious exasperation. 'You haven't been getting any punishment, I have! Putting up with you has been the curse of my life! I've put up with boys all my life, but YOU…no; you are NOT even a BOY! What ARE you, pray tell me?!'

I smiled and shrugged as I got up to leave. 

'I wish I knew, Sir,' I quietly said, closing the door behind me.

'KICK IT TO ME, KICK IT TO ME! Come on man! What the effin hell do you think you're doing?'

'HERE, OVER HERE! HELLO! I'M FREE DAMMIT! You friggin' bimbo!'

'ME, ME, ME, ME! EFFIN ME YOU IDIOT!'

'YOU MORON, I SAID KICK IT TO ME! YOU MADE US LOSE YOU SELFISH COW!'

I whistled as loudly as possible, bringing everyone's attention in the game to me; the referee.

'What the HELL are you guys DOING? This is a soccer match, NOT a friggin' swearing comp, all right? Get back in the field, to your right positions and PLAY and please…do not BITCH!' I snarled angrily, throwing the ball to the goalie.

I whistled again and the game restarted.

And this time, there was no name-calling or childish comments—much to my delight—and everyone had fun, blah, blah, blah…

As I watched the ball get kicked into the goal, (we'd just stuck two javelins into the ground a few metres apart and that was our goal, along with the fishnet) I noticed Khalil and Roald join the energetic, screaming crowd of fans who were impatiently waiting for half-time so they could go get the free food.

Jon had thought that the girls and guy from the "Other World" were getting too restless for any Tortallan's sanity, so he put Serena, Hayley and me in charge of a sort of fun day, with free food, sports games of any kind so long as we could organize and make the equipment and anything else needed.

At first Serena had babbled on about a modern-day ball, where we wear the clothes we first came in and try to make food that's more the future-ish than Tortall-ish. Serena and me refused vigorously, wanting an up-beat, actually exciting event where everyone could get involved and not have to worry about make-up, clothes and if guys were gonna be there. 

Of course we had to have boys, we couldn't exclude them, but most of the sports games we played were just us girls. We'd even made trials for the different teams that were to play. We had soccer, basketball, volleyball, tennis, badminton, rugby, league, football the Aussie way and cricket for the young Aussies and Brits there.

Let me tell you we kicked ass when we played against the Tortallans (soccer that is), who'd gotten just the same amount of practice and perseverance from their devoted Other World coaches as any other Other World-er. So their complaints of (especially that they were guys and their "egos" were something too precious to break and I admit, I enjoyed stomping all over them) "but you're from the Other World, you've played it so many times" fell on triumphant, deaf ears.

Khalil had manly decided to play against the girls, saying he wasn't called my "burly man" for nothing and it was around time he proved who the man was. Pity he failed miserably.

As we were playing soccer, and when I'd had a break from refereeing the game and Serena had taken over, I'd played defence.

A street guy from the Market called Derjin was attacking with the ball, dribbling it amazingly for a guy who'd only learnt that a round ball could be scored with into a goal a few days ago. I tried sweeping it from under him, but he was too good and gently kicked the ball over my leg and commenced dribbling it over to the goal.

Jelena, from my team of course, finally got the ball off him and was running back with it when Khalil, at mid-field, broke her perfect run with a promising tackle and headed back towards me.

I set all my concentration on the next move, wanting to show my burly man—who'd gotten very pompous and egoistic the past few days, showing off to all how woggy and damn good he was at everything—just how small and tiny he was in this world.

'I hope you got a spare ass handy in there somewhere Khalil, coz I'm gonna kick it so hard, I'm gonna wipe it out of bloody existence!'

Khalil sneered and ignored me.

He was so damn _good!_

I guess that goes with him being a Lebo—as biased as that may sound.

But I knew a few tricks and intimidated him, getting up close and stepping my foot beside the ball, in between his two feet and in a flash kicking the ball gently away from him and in front of me.

I ran like hell, looking sideways and to my front, hoping to see at least _one_ of my teammates concentrating on the game instead of gazing at the guys flex their pecks. 

Leanne was there, waving her arms wildly and screaming her butt off for me, I kicked it to her, making sure the space was free.

As soon as the ball connected with her foot, she ran off with it herself, heading straight for goal and nothing else, passing it quickly to Danielle, who was then put up against a very tall guy called Fenil, who nearly tore the ball of her. But she passed it in between his legs to Caitlin, who took her chances and kicked it in fiery frenzy into the goal.

The goalkeeper jumped to the left corner of the goal, opposite to where Caitlin had kicked it and the ball crossed the badly-drawn line and into the fishing nets that had served so well as the goal-net.

All the girls screamed and I ran to Caitlin and jumped on her back, screaming how good the goal was and that she was "a bloody legend!" and then everyone came and started jumping around us in a mad frenzy of utter joy.

'I can't believe this!' Danielle screamed.

'I KNOW, THIS IS SO BLOODY MAD!'

'You're bloody good, ya know that Caitlin? You're bloody good!'

'THAT oughtta show those egoistic morons!' 

'Come on girls, let's show them how good the _next_ goal will be! They'll be crying for us to stop the torment! Their _poor, poor_ egos! And in their own turf!'

I laughed and playfully slapped Danielle's shoulder before running back to my spot and felt my body relax as the crowd cheered with their boundless supply of excitement. 

Again, an assault from Khalil followed, but this time he tactfully, as soon as he'd come a few inches to me, opened a space to pass the ball sideways to Derjin, who dribbled it to the goal.

I ran across to him, a three-on-one, with Hannah, Hayley and me defending as much as possible, but he was so irritatingly good and at-one with the ball that he got past all of us and continued on his way to the goal.

I panicked and to cover the distance between us, jumped in the air and flipped into a summersault, landing in front of him and swiping the ball unexpectedly clear of him, quickly making a run for it, then passing it to Jelena, who continued on her way.

The other team kicked out the ball and we got a corner. 

'YOU CAN DO IT DANIELLE!' we all screamed, grinning encouragingly at her as she took the corner.

She took in a deep breath and looked at the possible passes, and in the end, threw it to the far side, where Caitlin stood alone, waving her arms. Caitlin made a quick short-pass to Jelena, who with a header, moved us on to the semi-finals with a 2-nil lead.

Again there was all the jumping and screaming and squealing, while the fans did their own thing, crying out a funny little song they'd made up with the riotous clapping and banging against metal-ish lids they'd dug up from somewhere.

The boys didn't end up even getting a goal, us girls got all the glory and signed all the autographs and a lot of Tortallans turned up and had screamed and jumped and cheered just as loudly as any Other World-er.

It was really one of the best days of my life—the girls playing and the people around me were wonderful, funny and the atmosphere was just exciting and amazing. 

After the soccer we all went out for dinner and a few drinks (the underage guys were delighted at the fact that underageness wasn't a real problem to bars at Tortall. Either that or the bartenders saw the gold coins and suddenly obtained a loss of memory and couldn't remember any laws saying under eighteens couldn't drink).

We ate till they ran out of food and while some drank until their mouths couldn't open up for more grog, others preferred to drink one tankard (or even a half) and be done with it. 

Of course, I was the very tiny minority of one person who didn't drink at all and walked out of the bar when everyone started to get drunk.

I just never felt comfortable around people who drank, especially after my mother's drinking problems. I felt suffocated and overwhelmed, sweat started to form all over my body and my mind swirled as my stomach cramped up.

It's just not worth sticking around and getting sick for, so I usually wait for everyone to get drunk outside, enjoy the few moments of solitude alone or with Khalil, since he's used to my ritual, and then head off home.

This time I was alone as I stood outside in the night, cold and shivering with my hands deep into the coat that I'd borrowed from Serena, watching the semi-moon shine dimly across the shadowed landscape.

I wondered what time it was back home, whether it was cold or hot, how the house felt so empty, with only one person—I'm hoping—living in it…did it feel the same? Or was it different?

I shrugged and breathed out a sigh, forming a foggy cloud in the process and laughing childishly as I created more.

'Do I miss out on _all_ the fun!' a voice complained sarcastically from behind me.

I chuckled and turned around to face Roald.

'If you weren't so busy being so bloody nice, maybe you wouldn't!' I teased, grinning as I playfully punched his shoulder.

'Oh? Teach me the right path, O Nasty One!' Roald replied, smiling timidly.

I couldn't help it and burst into laughter. It hadn't been that funny, but I was so happy and enjoying myself so much at that time, I would have laughed if you'd told me a tadpole could swim.

'All you gotta do is…be bad I guess…' 

Roald raised his eyebrows, as if to say "is that all?", when in fact, I had no idea and felt way too hyper for my own sake. I knew I was acting and talking like a complete idiot, but I couldn't stop myself. 

'Look, just…alright, I'll give ya an example.'

I walked up to him and felt around his pockets, revealing lots of coins and a few things not worth mentioning. 'Can I keep?' I asked earnestly.

'Of course you can—'

'ROALD!' I screamed. 'You're not helping…how could you possibly just give this money to me?'

'Well,' Roald floundered. 'That was a bad example!' he shot back. 'Of course I'll give you my money after you friggin' felt me up!'

'What the—' I squealed. 'I did _not_ feel you up!'

'Then what do you call—'

'I'm not hearing this!' I said, in utter shock. 'I did _not_ feel you up, I went through your pockets!'

Roald frowned at me and grabbed me by the waist and pushed my jacket aside, really feeling _me_ up.

'Now tell me _that _isn't feeling you up coz that's _exactly_ what you did to me!' Roald declared firmly.

'I so did not do that!' I replied fiercely. 'I only put my hands down your pocket, and got out the crap you had in there! My hands didn't…_linger_ enough to _do_ anything else…'

'A moment of uncertainty there, Reem,' Roald taunted.

I rolled my eyes. 'Fine, if you really want it that bad, I felt you up. There, have your fun, do a little dance, run off and tell your mates a little freak felt me up!'

Roald merely laughed at my pouting, disgusted face. 

After a short silence, Roald put his arm around my shoulder warmly and pulled me in towards his chest, my head contentedly lying against his perfectly built torso. (I really couldn't help not noticing that finer detail)

'Reem,' he whispered, his chin resting against my head.

'Mm?' 

I was so happy at that moment, so content and mesmerized by the beautiful night that nothing anyone could say or do could change how heartracingly happy I was.

'The King's banned me from seeing you.'

I pushed him away, my mouth dropping open as shock overtook me. 'What!?!'

Roald shrugged and smiled grimly. 'This is the last official day that I'm allowed to see you publicly in.'

'Excuse me!? So His Majesty can cut into people's private lives and change it around to his own liking, can he?' I snapped.

The Prince winced at my angry tone and sighed as he spread his hands out helplessly. 'I'm sorry, I can't change his mind—I've been trying to for the past few weeks.'

'You're…you're going to listen to him?' I stuttered, hoping to death he'd say no, that he really does love me and wouldn't let a spoilt, selfish King (unfair and untrue, but I was too angry to care) spoil the possibility of relationship between us.

'I have to,' Roald whispered, pushing a strand of hair back away from my face.

I pushed his hand roughly away. 'Like hell you don't!' I shouted. 'You…you won't even bloody—I can't—' I took in a deep breath and squinted my eyes at him. 'Fine. Go to your fancy Palace and go marry a gorgeous Princess that you _are_ allowed to see publicly, since I'm not worth being seen with! I really should have expected this! I really was stupid to think you would even—' I stopped there and felt like squealing and punching the life out of the perfectly calm-looking Prince.

'Man, I'm outta here!' I grumbled.

'Wait!' Roald shouted at my back, but I'd already turned around and stormed off. If I'd stayed any longer, I swear my anger would have just exploded and there would have been fists and knees flying around everywhere (mostly mine), and it really wouldn't have been pretty. Especially that I would have been hanged for kicking a Prince's butt (not that I could have, he was too fit for my own safety).


	21. Chap 21

The following days were gloomy and irritably slow. Roald was moved away—as far away from the girls' dorm as possible most obviously. Even though I should have expected that to happen, I cried for a while after I'd heard the news.

I'd been talking to Hayley in the courtyard, catching up on things since we hadn't spent time together in forever.

'I've found the one!' she'd squealed, gripping my hand in excitement and laughing joyfully.

'The one?! Hayley, I'd expect that from _Serena_, not _you!'_

I wonder who it is though…Hayley's a very picky, innocent sorta gal…I hope he ain't too much of a bad influence, she's perfect the way she is…

She rolled her eyes at me, waving my comment away. 'He's gorgeous, so caring!' She sighed loftily, holding a hand to her heart.

_Blegh._ 'Really?' I asked, feigning interest.

She nodded with a gleeful smile. _Come to think of it,_ I thought, _she does seem much happier._ Her face had taken on a certain flush, her eyes even smiled and she walked with more of a lift.

'He's perfect, Reem! _Perfect! _He's got the looks, the looks, and oh wait, I forgot to mention…_the looks!_ God of Gods! He's fabulously, fantastically, maddeningly, heartbreakingly _perfect! _He's so perfect, perfection doesn't even _begin_ to describe _his_ sort of perfection! I mean if you were to—'

'Uh, Hayley?' I interrupted with an amused expression. 'Does he happen to have a brain worth mentioning?! All the rambling you did about his, umm, perfect looks kinda hinted to a huge NO.'

The kind-faced girl chuckled and grinned impishly, sighing dreamily. 'Oh God, yes! He's so smart! And he's a squire too!'

'But of course!'

'So, in conclusion,' she said cheerfully, 'he's smart, perfectly sexy, sweet and so nice…well to me anyway.'

'And where have I heard that same sentence before?' I mock pondered. 'Oh yeah!' I exclaimed. '_In every soppy teen-romance movie ever created!'_

She took a handkerchief from her pocket and opened it, revealing small round pieces of delicious looking cake. She offered me some, so I took one with a polite thank you. 

I hadn't had decent sweets in so long; I practically gobbled the whole thing up in one mouthful. But my manners for once kicked into action and I took off one piece at a time and chewed considerably before swallowing.

'So tell me more about him!' I said, really interested now.

It wasn't enough that this girl lives in three worlds, here this guy comes along and gives her another one to daydream about! Nice going, dude! Frankenstein will voice his anger at you for creating an even stranger monster!

Her eyes lit up. 'Tell you more? Let's see! We talked for the first time at the ball—your first one, remember?' (How could I forget?) '—ages ago. He didn't seem interested at _all_ then, even bored with me! But suddenly, weeks later, he tracks me down and starts taking me out and stuff! It was really weird, but I'm glad he did! I'm so happy…

'Oh and he's got the most _beautiful _eyes you could ever come across! I could honestly melt in them—'

'Here we go with the clichés again!' I mumbled dryly. She eyed me firmly, so I spread out my hands helplessly and motioned, with a grin, for her to go on describing her "love". 

'So, _anyway_! Speaking of sexy men, how's yours?'

I blinked at her. 'Mine?'

She frowned at me, taking a small bite out of her cake. 'Duh, the Prince!'

I grimaced at the mention of _him_. 'Ah…it never started to end, but if it _had_, the King officially ended it for us, so yeah…'

I could see the sympathy and pity in her eyes. 'It would have never worked out anyway. I mean, a _prince_ and a no-status, Other-World-er crazy girl? Come on! I haven't even seen that in soppy movies, so it _has_ to be impossible.'

I was trying to unsuccessfully lighten up the suddenly quiet tense mood. 

'Well, I only asked cause erm…I thought something was up since Roald moved away and…'

My attention faltered. My mouth dropped open. My throat went dry. My vision blurred.

'E-excuse me? What did you say?' I stammered, absolutely shocked.

'I said I thought you guys had some sort of fight cause Roald moved away from his quarters just after he'd been at Wyldon's office. He moved his stuff just after lunch.' Her eyes softened as she looked me over. 'Didn't you know?'

I was still taking in the shock. _Why? … Well, coz of _me_ of course! Why else?_

'Do you…do you know why? I swallowed hard, wanting and not wanting to know at the same time. 

Hayley shook her head, much to my dismay _and_ relief. 'No…sorry.'

I nodded slowly, and smiled weakly when she frowned at me worriedly. 'I think I'll go…get some rest. I'll, um, see you at dinner.'

Se nodded and gave me a quick hug, eyeing me sternly in the process. 'I'll be bringing my new found love of my life to dinner, by the way, so pull a strap on your manners, or _else_.'

She was trying to change the mood, obviously.

I faked a laugh to satisfy her and nodded, before I walked back to my own room, and cried my broken heart out.

 While I sat in my room that evening, all alone, sick to death of crying, tired and bored, I decided to begin going over what I now called the "Atkin Case".

I borrowed parchment and ink from Hayley's drawer and dipped the qul into the inkwell, pondering in thought. What did I know so far?

I wrote in Arabic in case someone read it.

**Case: **Atkin

**Crime: **planning assassination/s

**Proof:** eavesdropped with Prince and hart about an "assassination" but didn't actually see Atkin, mind-read "assassination".

**Other Relative Info: **

- has helpers/followers/slaves

- knows I know something (not good)

- has to heave help from inside Tortall

**Info that I Must Find Out**:

- who he is

- who he wants to assassinate

- what his plans are

- why he's doing what he's doing

- who's helping him

- why they're helping him

- how many are helping him

- where his "homebase" is.

I grimaced at how huge list of the to-do list, but how small the already-know list was. 

'Great,' I grumbled, sighing as I rubbed my aching head. _How do I do this? I can't just do what I normally would do; bash the perpetrator until I'm told what I want. I need something smart, something cunning. Most importantly something, Atkin would never expect._

I was deep in thought when the doors burst open. I looked up from my and quickly turned the parchments over. It was Khalil, and he could read Arabic _perfectly_.

He smiled at me and looked around the room, then sighed. 'Got any idea where my girl is?'

I pressed my nails so deep into the palms of my clenched fists, I was sure I'd get blisters. 'Serena?' I tried my best conceal the tightness in my voice. 'No, sorry, haven't seen her all day.'

Should I mention the fact that she never came to bed last night when she'd said after dinner 'I'm gonna go over to Khalil's, I'll be back in a few'? Well, maybe not.

'Oh,' Khalil said grimly, coughing as the awkward silence dragged irritably.

It was then that I really realized how much we'd grown apart the last few weeks. I couldn't tell what he was thinking just by looking at him or hearing his voice like I used to, he didn't notice my sulking with eagle eyes as he used to, he couldn't bring a smile to my face just by being there anymore, _I_ couldn't make him smile by saying stupid things. It _hurt_, knowing we weren't and would possibly never be as close as we used to be. 

I tapped my quill against the armchair; for once I had nothing to say to Khalil. I was boringly speechless. 'So…' It was my turn to cough uncomfortably, apparently. 'I should, erm, get back to, um, this.'

Khalil nodded and plastered a smile, relief flooding his face as he got an excuse to leave. He left wordlessly.

My head spun, for more than the obvious reason. It felt as heavy and dizzy as it had at my first ball—which seemed like eons and eons ago…

What did it mean? When it pounded like this? It wasn't your natural, regular headache—that was all I knew. Instead of flashes of pain, I saw flashes of thread. Deep, rose threads tangled and disfigured, shining very dimly. I couldn't even begin to guess what was causing my headaches, let alone why. Or what the threads I saw were. I mean, who would?!

The headache was exactly the same one as I'd had at the ball, which startled me, because I'd thought _Atkin_ had been the cause of that, after I'd seen him smirk at me just as I'd fainted. But there was no Atkin around this time. _So what's the deal here?_

After an hour or so, I got sick of thinking the same thoughts and questions over and over and getting absolutely no answer, so I decided to go off somewhere. Take my mind of things. Refresh my mind. Anything to get away, really.

But just as I was about to get up and leave, the door was knocked softly. Grumbling, I got up and answered it. 

It was a snobby-looking runner.

'Yes?'

The short, middle-aged man with rat-like features, sniffed at me with disgust and handed me a rolled up, wax-sealed parchment with the tips of his fingers. I nearly laughed at his stupidity but controlled myself.

'From His Majesty,' he said dryly, somehow managing to look down at me even though he was shorter than me.

I raised my eyebrow at him. 'You should see a healer for that,' I remarked.

'Excuse me?' he snapped.

'The alignment of yours eyes are screwed up,' I explained graciously. 'You can't seem to look straight ahead—only, erm, down at your nose. Don't you hate that? I mean your nose is definitely _not_ the prettiest thing in the world—far from it. In fact, if I had your nose, and that eye-disease, I'd go mad! God, I'd retch every other second!'

I smiled wanly. 'Thank you,' I said, looking at the parchment, then slammed the door in his shocked face.

'Arrogant moronic arse.'

I leaned against the wall and tore at the seal, unrolling the parchment hastily.

_Reem,_ it read.

_I request your audience at dinner,_ sharp_. Meet me at my office. _Do not_ be late._

_Sincerely,_

_Your King._

I rolled my eyes. 'Not _my_ King, honey!'

_Should I?_ I thought warily. _I mean it could be important! Kings don't request meetings with no-status girls without a very, very good reason._

I groaned as I remembered Hayley telling me about bringing her "true love" to dinner for us to meet.

_Sorry Haylz, there'll be other chances to meet your "soul mate". I can't exactly stand up the king. Well, maybe if I liked dark, dirty, disgusting, rat-infested cubicles of death and corruption. But I don't, so I'm sorry._

So there I was, in front of the King's office, facing the guards outside. They sneered at me when I tried to go through, and blocked my way.

'Please move,' I said politely, my eyes on the door.

I was in no mood for pathetic slobs. I was too worn out to do any spectacular fighting. 

'Do you have permission?' one of them with blotchy skin drawled, grinning nastily at me.

I'd forgotten my invitation. 'The King—'

'_Written_ permission, _dear_, or no going on,' the other snarled, pushing me back roughly.

I cussed and glared at them ferociously. 'If you'd just call the King, he'll—'

'Well the King ain't here, lovie,' blotchy-skin said, watching me intently. 

'I told you, the King want to see me! So I know he's here. If you'd just—'

'Save it, wench! Written permission. If you don't have that, quit wasting our time!'

I squinted my eyes at them and said through gritted teeth, 'Or what?'

Blotchy grabbed me by the collar and shook me, shooting pangs of pain through my already-aching head. 'Or I'll punch your face in so hard, it'll take you years to—'

'Put the Lady _down_,' a powerful, crisp voice commanded from behind me, interrupting the guard's sweet threat.

Blotchy's skin was a deep red colour, looking even disgustingly worse that it had before—if that was possible. He grudgingly let me go, but pushed me down roughly in the process. 

I tumbled to the floor.

'Get out of my face before _I'll_ punch your face in, hard,' my rescuer growled.

I saw the guard clench his fists and glare at me before stomping off. The other guard gulped and opened the door for me with a forced smile. Obviously, the rescuer had power. 

I slowly got up and turned to look at my rescuer. My mouth gaped open and I froze in my place. The headache came to a halt—but I didn't even notice that, which was saying something.

'I-it's _you!_' I gasped, a hand flying to my open mouth as I took in the shock.

The Lioness grinned, a hand gripping the hilt of a sheathed sword, as if it belonged there. 'Well this _is_ my second-home! What're you here for then?'

I shook my head and physically stopped myself from rubbing my eyes in disbelief. 'The King wanted to see me,' I croaked, my voice choked.

'Ah,' she said, with a hint of a smile. I looked more closely at her face and suddenly noticed her pale and gaunt face. I frowned as I saw lines at the sides of her mouth and the middle of her forehead. Her eyes were bloodshot and there were heavy bags under them, probably from sleep depravation. 

'Well, ladies first.' The Lioness and King's Champion ushered for me to go on ahead, into the King's office.

Smiling gratefully—if not idiotically—I turned around with a shocked look still on my face, and entered his Majesty's office.

King Jonathan of Contè IV looked up from the rolls and rolls of parchment and books that swamped his desk. He smiled grimly and put down his quill, motioning for me to sit down on the chair opposing his.

I obeyed silently, this time frowning at _him_ as I noted the dark, grim lines around his mouth. He looked just like what Alanna had—exhausted and gauntly pale. 

'Are you all right, your Majesty?' My bitterness for him rushed out of me as concern filled its place. He looked absolutely _terrible_.

'I'm fine,' he replied, stacking his papers into a neat pile and then looking up at me somberly. 'You're probably wondering why I called you so suddenly.'

Nodding absentmindedly, I winced as the headache returned, stronger than ever. It had slowly come back as soon as I'd entered the office.

'…noticed that the girls haven't…so I've called…to look…' Jon's voice came and went as my mind spun. My breath quickened, and I gripped the armchairs tightly to try and steady myself. 

_God, what's happening to me?!_

'I hope…soon and—Reem, are you…right?' the King's concerned voice drifted into my messed up head.

I leaned my head against the back of the chair and looked up at the ceiling, concentrating on one spot to try and stop the dizziness, but failing to do so as everything to seemed to move as soon as I'd try to look straight at it. Something was obscuring my head, clouding it.

'Reem?'

My vision blurred as I felt adrenaline rush through my entire body—then disappear just as suddenly as it had come, leaving me limp and puffing with exhaustion, even though I hadn't moved an _inch. _

Something tugged at my mind. It was then that I suddenly realized I'd been _holding on_ to something. I frowned; obviously it wasn't something _physical_. Thinking deeply, the only thing I could think of was that since I was living in Tortall, I had to think about Tortall rules in this sort of situation.

Holding onto something…

Mentally?!?! Anything was possible in this world.

I took a deep breath and in my mind, pictured myself grabbing a rope tightly, pouring how I felt into it with the pain that controlled me. I then, again mentally, let go of the rope with a quick prayer to any God that was listening. 

I hoped that would do, as I opened my eyes slowly. 

Seconds later, the fog lifted from my mind, and the headache slowly ebbed and ebbed till it was a meaningless throb—one which I could thankfully handle. A grateful smile split my lips as I thanked God for this miracle. 

Opening my eyes, I was greeted with shock. Jon's eyes were wide open, his mouth gaping; he was the perfect picture of absolute astonishment.

'What?!' I demanded.

'Mithros, woman!' he suddenly snapped. 'Why didn't you _tell_ anyone?'

I looked at him, confusion written all over my now-pale face as I struggled to regain my strength. I needed sleep. 'Tell anyone what?'

Something told me he wasn't referring to what he'd been going on about while I'd been having an internal-fit (there you go, another new, meaningless word, created by yours truly).

The King frowned at me thoroughly, the lines deepening on his face as his stunningly handsome face broke into a look of utter concentration. His eyes closed. After a while, he reopened them and said clearly and without a trace of irritation and anger, 'I'll have to refer you to someone who knows of…whatever that was.'

'Your Majesty,' I began calmly, enjoying not having a jeering headache. 'Maybe if you explained to me just what your were hyperventilating about, you might just –surprisingly—find me of use!' 

Jon smiled gently and rubbed at his temples, a regretful sigh escaping him as he turned to the report and such on his table. He made a face. 'I'll just hand you a note to give to Numair—I'll be keeping an eye on you whenever I can, mind you.'

'Oh, I just _adore_ threats!' I exclaimed mock-cheerfully as I waited for his Majesty to scribble down his "note". I wondered privately why he didn't just give it to a runner. God knows he had plenty of _those_.

When he finished his note, he handed it to me after he'd rolled and wax-sealed it with the royal emblem. 'Be polite,' he warned me sternly, looking at me pointedly, but also with a hint of amusement.

I fell in love with him all over again. I groaned as the thought crossed me. _Not again._

I half-bowed with a grin, and took the note. 'Yessir! I'll be on my best!'

The King sighed. 'Is that meant to be comforting? Because it's not.' He waved me off in obvious dismissal.

It was only once I stepped out into the dim hallway that I remembered something rather important: I didn't _know_ where Numair's quarters were! Let alone where _he_ was… You'd think a king, having had the best education money could supply (or rather, the teaching dudes while he was training to be a Knight) would know a girl of my status and brain wouldn't know where to find a guy like Numair! Geez. He just _astounds_ me with his expansive wisdom.

But I loved him to death anyway!

This time, instead of trying to find everything my own way and getting completely (and stupidly) lost, I decided to do the right thing and look for someone who _did_ know their way around the Goddamned maze of a Palace. 

So I walked on, hoping to find one. 

As I walked around the corner, and just as I turned to look back the way I'd come to see if I should have gone the other way, I slammed sideways into someone with a rather large, muscular and buff chest. And it wasn't a girl, mind you.

'Gods, are you alright?' a concerned voice asked as firm hands steadied me by the shoulders.

'Yeah, I'm fine…thanks!' I looked up to see a shadowed face.

'Is _everyone_ tall around here?' I grumbled, straightening out my wrinkled dress.

The guy laughed and shrugged. 'I guess we just want to flatter _your_ gracious height!'

'Or lack there of!' I grinned. 'Hey, actually, could you do me a favour?' I asked, as earnestly as possible.

'Uh…yes?'

_Woohoo!_ 'Would you have _any idea_ where Numair Salmalìn's quarters are?!'

To my utmost relief, he did and told me to follow him.

When we stepped outside and the light hit his face, I frowned. 'Don't I know you?'

He grinned widely and shrugged as he walked off. His strides were too fast and his long legs covered distance much, much easier than my tine ones did, so I had to struggle to catch up with his; I had to actually _jog!_

I guess finding out you weren't as fit as you should have been at a time like that wasn't too encouraging, it definitely didn't make me feel any happier. I had an assassin to take care off and I couldn't jog to save my own _life!_ Very comforting thought, very, _very_ comforting.

And _this_ guy wouldn't tell me who he is. If he thought that was mysterious—let me tell you pal, it's plain irritating! 'So what's your name?' I asked, eyeing him.

'We're here,' he simply said, pointing at the door with a smile. 

THE NERVE OF THIS BOY! 'Erm, _excuse me!_ I asked for your name!'

He raised an eyebrow. 'If you knew me, you'd know. Wouldn't you?'

_So we're playin' _that_ game, are we?_ _All right, boy. _'Of course I would, dear!' I laughed falsely. 'Would you happen to know my name, if you knew me as well that is?'

His face broke into a grin—a friendly one. 'Maybe,' he replied.

'Oh really?' I demanded.

He shrugged, the grin still apparent on his face. 'Well I'd better go now.'

Before I could protest, he turned on his heel and left, leaving me slightly pissed off and confused. _Men and games!_ I huffed, shaking my head as I took a step closer to the door and knocked. 

I waited a few more moments before knocking again, harder this time. I heard sleepy grumbling and grinned. The door opened to reveal an amazingly tall, dark-haired (very ruffled hair, I noticed) man that I had to crane my neck right up to actually be able to talk to. 'Hello,' I croaked dumbly, staring openly.

He forced a smile and nodded. 

After I'd been silent for a long time, he raised an eyebrow, expecting something. But I just stared and stared…and stared…

Numair coughed. 'Yes?'

'Ah ma…' I rambled.

'_Excuse me?_ Like all other people who met me, he frowned at me like I should really have never been released from the psychotic hospital. But _he_ should know. He was quite crazy himself.

'Um…this…here…' I looked at the parchment in my hands.

He suddenly smiled and took the parchment when it was obvious I was too dazed to do anything but stare at it blankly.

When he'd read it, he looked at me for a while, and then frowned just as the King had. 'I see,' he murmured.

I'd finally snapped out of my shock and raised my eyebrow at him. 'Erm, you see _what?_ And why the hell are you looking at me like that?!'

Numair merely said, 'I don't have much time to discuss this now, but if you'll meet me tomorrow, at the stables…let's say at noon…is that all right by you?'

I shrugged. 'Sure, I don't got no plans.'

He frowned. 'I don't _have any_ plans!'

'Erm, ok, not that I asked or anything…'

The mage looked confused for a moment, but then sighed. 'I was _correcting _you!'

'Why would you do that?!' 

'Because you—' he started, but then sighed and shook his head as he muttered under his breath about uneducated people and streettalk. 

'I actually _did_ get an education,' I objected. 'I just never bother usin it…no point really.'

He pursed his lips. 'Well around me, you _will_.'

I grinned. ' Don't you mean I _shall_?'

'No, it's—' he stopped and squinted his eyes at me. 'Don't get smart. Tomorrow, noon, stables, don't be late or _else_.'

The door closed before I could retort, so I rolled my eyes and stalked off to see if I'd missed out on seeing who Hayley's new man was…


	22. Chap 22

I stood nervously outside the stables, wondering why Numair and Jon were suddenly interested in me. I didn't _want_ them to be interested—well maybe Jon, but he wasn't interested in _me_; he was interested in what he saw in me. Hopefully it wouldn't lead me into any more trouble.

Yawning now, I waited patiently; arms crossed over my chest as the cold wind nearly blew me away. 

'You're late,' I grumbled at Numair, who calmly and gracefully walked towards me. I frowned. 'Can't you, you know, use your astounding Gift to shorten yourself? I'm gonna end up neck-less if I have to keep lookin' up at you like that!'

_How does Daine cope with the daily back and neckpain?_ I wondered silently.

Numair merely made a face at me, then dragged me into the stables and ordered me to mount a horse and follow him back outside. Once I'd saddled Tether (who thanks to the Prince was now mine) and fed him of course, I led the gorgeous mount outside, where Numair stood waiting rather impatiently.

'It's not _my_ fault you were late!' 

He glared at me, so I rolled my eyes with a sigh and mounted my steed. 'Where to?' I asked, ever so grateful for the riding lessons (which had been temporarily—or maybe permanently now—stopped) that Roald had so kindly given up his time for.

'Just follow,' was the dry retort. Black-robe mages obviously weren't very chatty people.

'So…Numair…how's Daine?' It had been getting boring, just riding on and on quietly, and I definitely wasn't the silent one.

He turned to look at me, obviously uncomfortable on his horse. I giggled; I'd forgotten his dislike towards horses. Or nervousness with riding them anyhow. 'Well, well, well…' I grinned to myself.

When we reached the hill where I'd once—which seemed like eons ago—sat with Roald, Numair dismounted ungracefully and motioned for me to do the same. I managed to do with it with more dignity, then followed Numair's suit and sat cross-legged, back to the view of the city of Tortall. 

The handsome black-robed mage took a deep breath in; I complied. 

I breathed in and out when he did, and slowly felt my body relax. I closed my eyes and unconsciously slipped into my own rhythmic breathing. 

'How do you feel?' Numair's cool voice drifted into my soothed mind.

Deep breath in…

Release…

'Relaxed,' I whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace that had finally settled on me.

'Clear your mind,' Numair requested gently, his breathing still light.

Nodding, I collated the thoughts and bothers in my head and forced them away…or tried to anyway.

After a few frustratingly unsuccessful tries, I got angry and my breathing shallowed, so Numair stopped me patiently. 

'Try again, this time try to concentrate on _blocking_ the thoughts in your head rather than questioning them.' 

I frowned; I _had_ been trying to unravel answers to the queries in my head rather than just ignore them. But how _he'd_ known that, I had no clue. So I tried again, refraining a sigh as doubts and hopes of me, my life, Khalil and Roald flooded me. 

But I shook my head and pushed them to the back of my mind, promising to think about them _later_.

After ten or so more minutes, the mage told me that was enough. I opened my eyes and grimaced at the assault of the bright light of the sun. 

'Lunch,' he declared, and unpacked the "basket" I'd never noticed him carry. 

I beamed. 'God I'm bloody starved! Serve it up, bud!'

Numair frowned at me with irritation, as he lay out a blanket, so perfectly it made me a tad sick. '"_Gods_, I'm starving, please serve lunch, _Numair."_'

My eyes danced. 'Ok…asking yourself…to serve yourself…fine Numair, whatever catches your wave…'

He scowled at me and told me to—ever so politely—shut up and eat. I obeyed with a wink. 

To my utter surprise, he didn't talk through lunch, instead ate silently. I'd expected him to chatter endlessly, questioning me about whatever he suspected me off. But he didn't do that at all. 

When I was about to eat my last biscuit, he coughed and rubbed at his hands, having finished his meal. I put the biscuit down and realized he'd been thinking while he'd been eating, so that probably exclaimed his silence. 

'I've been informed,' the mage began somberly, 'that you are one of the newest girls.'

An eyebrow rose without thought. 'Newest? Well I've been here for a good few months…'

He nodded and bore his eyes into mine, probing. 

Erm. 'So what's all this about?' 

'You should know,' Numair said, smiling slightly as he packed up the empty plates and equipment. 

I helped him, frowning at what he said. What've they found out? The King gave me weird looks right after…

'I'm _not_ inhabited by a devil, you know!' I glared at him. Jon had seen me go semi-crazy, 

Numair's head snapped up and a confused look crossed his handsome, somber face. 'A devil?! What the King noticed and passed on to me is quite strange. The way of the Gift, as of experience, is s—'

I knew he'd blab on and on in university language if I let him, of my _own_ experience, so I interrupted. 'Just tell me what he saw, alright?'

'Are you always this rude?' he demanded impatiently. 'As I was saying, the Gift is quite a complex magic; the fact that _no_ magic is simple and easy adds to its complexity. To work with the Gift, you must comprehend its basics. As with anything, really. You cannot expect to work with something efficiently if you don't understand it. For example—'

'No examples, please!' I groaned, remembering Daine barely stopping him from boring her to death with his unending examples—in the books, of course. 

Numair glared at me irritably, then sighed and shook his head. 'Fine. What I was getting at is that you have some form of magic. Jon doesn't think it's the Gift…but it could be a _form_ of the Gift.

'The way to—Reem?' He frowned at me, as I glowered.

'I do _not_ have magic,' I objected firmly.

His frown deepened as he looked at me questioningly. 'You sound so sure.'

'Because exploding like a loon isn't enough proof that I have magic!'

Numair shot me a dry look. 'In your case, you're a _lunatic_ with or without magic. Now, come over here. _I_ will see whether you have magic.'

Scowling, I sat where he'd pointed to so stubbornly and waited for an angry zap. But he just put his hands on my shoulders gently, then told me to close my eyes and relax as I had done while meditating.

I didn't clear my mind, just relaxed.

When Numair took his hands off my shoulder, I jerked my eyes open and turned to look at him curiously. Why hadn't he done anything?! 'Why didn't ya do nothing?'

'But I did,' he replied, tapping his chin thoughtfully. 

'What?' I demanded, not liking the curious look on his face. It meant he was undergoing a thoughtful ponder about his 'experiment'. 

So long as he leaves me alone after this, I'll be fine, I thought grimly. I mean who exactly _would_ like being poked and probed like a dead animal? If anyone did, I wasn't one of them! (Now here we have a 'Reem'…which is her technical name. She's been nicknamed 'freak' and 'lunatic'…) 

'Are you against magic, Reem?'

I frowned at Numair's sudden question. I mean what a stupid question, would I _be_ here if I _was?_

'It's alright,' I replied.

The mage nodded, and returned to the process of freaking me out by using philosophical talk on me like I totally understood—which I didn't. 

'… and it is technically a very enhancing and enthralling study…furthermore, the fascinating assumption that it is not naturalistically sound is of utmost significant concern,' he was explaining rather quickly, with a serious, engrossed look on his face. Well at least _he_ knew what he was going on about.

I just smiled and nodded, trying to look absolutely fascinated and immersed with the gibberish he was blabbing about. _Lovely_, I thought dryly, _I'd rather listen to Ms Cassin explain the parts of a dead rabbit—with the rotting animal in front of me, mind you…at least then I'd know what she was talking about. _A dead animal.

'…generates wavelinks of abnormal capacity! It's the missing link we've been understandably having significant trouble with…'

Nod. Smile. Nod. Smile.

While I waited for him to calm down from his mood, I decided to keep to my promise—the one about thinking through the lost thoughts in my mind.

First stop; Roald…

I made a face and sighed inwardly. _There's nothing I can do about _him_… I'd rather forget he ever existed. Well, in _my_ life anyway._

Next stop; Khalil.

I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering to myself. _What are you to me? You've always been a friend…always. Now…you've forgotten I existed._

Great._ I'm_ trying to forget _Roald_ ever existed, meanwhile my best friend's been there and done that—to me.

I didn't think I could really do anything about that either, so I moved on.

Atkin.

Just the name sent shivers up and down my spine. 

All I knew at the time was that I didn't like him, his personality or his behaviour. I guess it's called instincts, and I was sticking to them. I just needed _proof_. Proof that Atkin was up to and doing no good. But with my luck, I guessed I'd end up in court for breaking and entering. 

Home.

Again, I sighed inwardly, absently noticing Numair was still at it. I didn't want to go home then, I knew that. I _enjoyed_ it in Tortall, as depressing as it got at times. Even if I _was_ in love with a heartbreaking, startlingly gorgeous _prince_…I mean God, people back home were in love with Prince William. 

Thinking more thoroughly, I noticed the only thing I could do about Roald was to let him go about his business and do nothing but be respectfully polite to him…if I got to ever see him again. _If Jon gets what he wants_, I thought glumly, _I probably won't. _

Khalil just needed a break from me…he probably got sick of me, that's all. It happens between best friends, I told myself, at times you feel you know them too well and vice versa and you just need a break. But it still hurt like hell. I mean, he was the first person I'd ever shared my new, good crayons with; he was the first person I'd told about my dirty dress after a secret trip to the park when the Lebanese party had nearly finished—the one mum had told me _not_ to get dirty or a spanking was in the ready, let's just say I was a very hyper child—_and_ he'd been my first kiss. 

I blinked at the realization of the latter.  

I hadn't thought about it as much as I should have. 

Maybe…

Could be… Frowning, I snapped out of my deep thoughtfulness and dared to interrupt Numair_. _ _'_Numair_…Numair_…NUMAIR!'__ He stopped babbling and frowned at me. 'You don't have to yell, Reem…what?' 'I gotta go, ' I said impatiently. 

The mage rolled his eyes just as patiently and waved me off. 'Go, go. I won't be here for a while, so take care of yourself and do _not_ use your magic under any circumstance, do you hear me, young lady? Not until I get back, anyway.' 

I was eyed firmly.

Nodding with a sigh, I mounted up and went back to the Palace.

I bumped into Serena on the way to my room, and she told me all about Hayley's new interest—all but his name of course. She just talked about his looks, his voice and some other things she thought were interesting that I rolled my eyes at. Something about the way she described him made me fidgety. Merely nodding and feigning interest, I inwardly groaned with boredom and impatience. I felt dirty and was in great need of a shower and change of clothes. 

'I swear to God,' Serena was squealing excitedly. 'If he wasn't already taken—or if _I_ wasn't—I'd—'

'You'd what?'

Ducking to hide the wicked grin, I walked past Serena, giving her a sly sideway look. The girl's expression was startled as she turned to look at Khalil with a slow smile. 'Oh, Khalil, there you are!'

Khalil was clearly unimpressed as he folded his arms across his chest, a questioning look on his face. 'We need to talk,' he snapped at Serena, ignoring me.

My eyebrows rose but I remained quiet as I made my way, slowly, to my room. 

I heard Serena let out a sigh. 'Khalil, I don't know why you—'

'I _saw_ what you were doing during lunch, Serena, and it had nothing to do with being _friendly_,' Khalil interrupted angrily. Khalil, I knew, rarely got that angry. The only times he got that angry with me was—well, when he'd find me sprawled in my room after a long fight; injured, bruised and exhausted. That had been often. But those had been the only times. He only got angry at serious things, otherwise he was all calm.

Shaking my head with a sigh, hoping things wouldn't get too bad between the two, I lay back on my bed and soaked in boredom. 

I jumped when I heard a voice close to me. '…trust you ever again?'

'Can't you knock, you—' I began to say, but when I'd looked around, there was no one in the room. The door was shut.

I closed my eyes again and decided on a nap.

 '…flirted…bloody take this…'

Frowning, I realized it was Khalil's voice. Very _loud_. Very _terse. _Very _un_Khalil. Since when did Khalil yell so loud about such a private matter? _Usually_ he only talked of private issues to two people; the person concerned, and me. He almost always kept it hush-hush, so I was quite confused by his abnormal loudness. 

 '…_sick to death…'_

 'I just…can't help it.' Serena.

 I shook my head and tried to block their voices. 

'…love you…' Serena, again.

For a whole ten minutes, there was grateful silence.

When I thought it was safe to venture out, I grabbed my bathing things and walked out of the room. I nearly tripped over a sitting figure on my way and scowled angrily when I barely held myself up, leaning against the wall.

But I merely frowned when I saw who it was. 'Khalil?' 

His head was hung and his knees tugged up, his shoulders drooped. He didn't answer.

_Oh shit,_ I though, knowing I wasn't any good at helping pick up the pieces after a break up or serious face. From the look on Khalil's face, it was the former. 

Wondering what to do, I finally sat down next to him and slipped my hand into his strong and firm one, tugging comfortingly. 'You alright?' I whispered.

He looked up and I could see he was every bit upset by the wary look on his face, and the downward tug at his mouth—and his jaded expression. 'Peachy,' he croaked, directing me with a strange look as his eyes wandered over mine.

'Doubt it,' was my dry retort. I cupped his chin with my fingers and sighed, my heart breaking at the weariness that hung onto him. 'What did she do to you?'

Prying his hand loose, he kept his eyes on me. 'Never worse than what _you_ did to me.'

Not only did my heart break then, it bled. 'Khalil, you know I'd never hurt you!' I cried.

He smiled grimly as I dropped my hand to my lap. 'Too late now.'

'But…I don't understand…I never did anything…you've been too busy ignoring me for me to do anything wrong…'

'Ignoring you,' he repeated quietly and raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. 'You have no idea, do you?'

My eyes fell. 'No.'

He was quiet for a long while, and made me jump when he next talked. His tone was low and precise. 'This may remind you, then.'

He tilted my head upwards with his fingertips and dipped his lips into mine, his other hand slipped onto my waist. My heart picketed wildly, going into overload as my stomach fluttered. 

Next thing I knew, I was pulling away and pushing his hand off my waist. 

But Khalil wasn't interested; instead he dragged me back closer and kissed me again, not allowing me a chance to protest this time. So I just went on feeling used and guilty.

Used because Khalil was obviously still upset about Serena, and thought he'd get over her by doing what she'd done to him. Guilty because I was letting him do it, and enjoyed it.

_Oh shut up. It's not like you don't want this._

I mentally made a face and sighed inwardly. 

Khalil finally let go off me and smoothed the hair out of my face. 'You're tense,' he commented.

I stared at him, making strangled noises as I groped for the right way to yell my ass off at him. '_Excuse me?'_ I finally said; that always worked. 'You kiss me, I push you away, you kiss me again, and I'm supposed to be grateful and smother you with love? I said no but you—'

'No you didn't,' he cut in, smiling mischievously.

Glaring at him, I snapped, 'Well of course I couldn't with your tongue in my friggin' mouth!'

His eyebrows rose as his smile remained. 'Yeah, that _does_ take a bit of practice. Wanna try again? I'll work at you till perfection. Promise.'

I groaned and slapped his arm. 'Are you listening to me?'

'You know I can listen _and_ kiss, it's you that needs to learn to talk and kiss. But obviously, you aren't up to it.' He shrugged and tugged at my nose.

I gaped at him. Well _he_ was the moody one! I'm meant to believe he'd changed moods in a few _seconds?_ 'You're _joking_ about this?'

'I don't see why not.'

Shaking my head, I glowered impatiently. 'You're insane! Grieve, boy! You've lost your girl!'

'All that kissin' made me forget,' he complained, grinning widely.

'God…you're sick.'

He nodded in agreement. 'So how's it feel to kiss a sicko?'

I rubbed at my temples, feigning patience as I took a deep breath. 'As much as I'd _love_ to have this insightful conversation with you, I got a nice, hot tub waiting for me…'

'Can I come, then?' he said innocently. 'I swear to God I'll be as quiet as a mute.'

'Yeah,' I replied mock-cheerfully. When he gave me a startled, questioning look, I went on. 'The girls at the baths need the excitement. And I'd love to see your arse get kicked out of there.'

He made a face at me. 'So,' he said, coughing now. 'You wanna have some, erm, afternoon tea or something?'

'Nah.'

'Oh,' he said, obviously disappointment.

I grinned and ruffled his hair. 'But dinner'll be fine. Seven o'clock _sharp_.'

He eyed me firmly. 'You're serious? Not just playin' around?'

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. '_No_. I'm not playing around. I swear it.'

'Promise me then,' Khalil insisted.

I sighed and nodded, placing the flat of my palm against the middle of my chest solemnly. 'Promise, Khalil. Not even an earthquake could keep me away.' I tweaked his cheek and winked.

Strolling away, I whistled cheerfully, grateful at the outturn of things. 

_I don't need a royal prince; I've already got a gorgeous Lebo prince._

Deciding to go for a walk in the courtyard, I went just before dinner, wanting to be in a good mood when I next saw Khalil. I still couldn't believe what had happened. Minutes after he'd broken up with Serena, he'd asked me out. One thing I thought was for sure; he was a very confusing guy. He was mad as hell to start with, then depressed when I talked to him and ended up kissing me, ending it all with all around cheery mood.

Shaking my head with confusion, I sat on a bench near a fountain. 

I sat there for quite a while, thinking things over and finally deciding a few things; really deciding things for once instead of breezing through them and randomly picking out my choices like I always had. 

After half an hour or so of hard thinking and revolutionizing my life, I got up to leave, but froze when I heard hushed voices close by. Moving as quietly as I possibly could, I kept my ears alert to the banter.

'…word from Bahnar. You know what to do. So get to it!'

That was Atkin's voice, and _he_ was meant to be with his training master, away from Tortall! I'd thought he'd be too busy doing what squires did to cause any havoc, but obviously he knew how happy it would of and _had_ made me, so sweet Atkin had altered his plans for little me.

'…let's go.' 

Looking around, I frowned at the fact that the courtyard was deserted and there was no rustling to point out the intruders. Peering around at every inch of the courtyard, I started to wonder if I'd gone mad, hearing voices because I wanted to. (I had after all desperately wanted to get proof of Atkin's plans.)

I heard cursing and a painful gasp. 'The Gods-cursed stove is—'

'You fool! … under the salt bag, hurry!' 

_Stove? Salt bag?!? What the—_

'Got it! Let's get out of here! Cook's here!' Atkin.

My mind whirled…the kitchen!?

But how had I…?

Shaking my head, I bolted for the kitchen, needing to get my hands or eyes on what Atkin had 'got'… _Proof, it could be proof_, I thought anxiously as I hurried my footsteps. _Hurry, hurry…_

By the time I got to the kitchens, there was not a single sign of anyone having searched the place. And the cook _was_ there, grumbling as he started dinner. I guess that's what Atkin had in mind, what had I expected? To outrun assassin-wannabes? Sure, get your maths right Reem.

I stood there, not knowing what to do…this was way out of my league. My league was 'bash-up-the-crims'; I'd never needed proof. Now I _had_ to find proof, otherwise I'd end up in jail for assaulting a squire with insufficient evidence. Pondering, I tried to think over a plan that'd end up _him_ in prison and me with the key, watching him from outside the iron bars.

A cough from beside me interrupted my innocent thoughts. Looking up, I saw it was the cook, glaring at me from his neat kitchen. 'No free food here, _lady_. Move along before I call the guards.'

Scowling with impatience, I rolled my eyes and moved away from the door, still staying close to the kitchens, but out of sight of the snappy cook.

Lost in thought again, I finally snapped when I was again interrupted. 'Can't you _see_ when a bloody girl is trying to—'

I came to a halt and felt my whole face heat up as I stared at the intruder. Coughing, I cursed privately. _Great. Just _great, I thought bitterly. _Just when I thought my day had reached peak-high. _

The Prince nodded slightly at me, looking past my shoulder quietly.

_Oh, so I'm not worth looking at now, am I?_

'Are you gonna stand there and ignore me or are ya here for a reason?' I snapped, fed up.

He glanced at me expressionlessly, but remained silent.

What the— 

'Right, well, I'll just—'

I glowered at him when he covered my mouth with his hand, tucking a hand over my waist, and pushed me into a hidden, dark corner (there seemed to be many of those in the Palace, interestingly enough), the opposite side of the kitchen. Biting into his palm, he released me with a scowl. 'What do you think you're doing?' I demanded angrily, hands on hips.

He sighed impatiently and pointed at the kitchen door. 

The cook was muttering as he locked the door to the kitchen and left.

Looking over at Roald, I was washed with emotion. I'd forgotten how heartachingly gorgeous he was. Putting a lid to my uncontrollable hormones when he was an inch or so away from me was pretty hard. Shaking my head at my foolishness, I waited patiently for what Roald wanted me to see.

After minutes of utter stillness, I started to complain, but I heard muffled arguing and shut up.

'…believe you _dropped_ it! You bloody—'

'SHUT _up!_ Do you want us caught, you fool?' The pompous, velvety voice belonged to Atkin.

'I'm sick of you playing boss! You're _not_, so stop treating me like you are!'

Turning to see Roald's reaction to all this, he remained quiet and impassive. I looked back to see the two guys unlocking the door and shuffling in, cursing as they lit a candle and looked around for what they dropped.

Badly wanting to get in there and bash the life out of Atkin, I held back only because Roald had practically read my thoughts and clutched at my arm with a warning glare. Making a face, I silently—if irritably—watched and waited.

_We can't let them get away!_ I wanted to scream.

Lanterns were lit, and hushed arguing commenced while the two prowlers searched for what they'd dropped. Or rather, what Atkin had dropped. Waiting anxiously, I wondered what the Prince had in mind; there was no telling from the solemn, patient look on his face.

I heard scrambling and then the jeering sound of bones being forcefully crushed. Risking a glance at Roald, I saw him clench his teeth, hard, and take in a calming breath. _Would he let me do something _now? I thought angrily. 

My anger tripled as Atkin strolled out of the room, an impatient and bothered look on his face as he brushed the hair out of his face and straightened out his clothes, moving out quietly and guiltlessly. I felt my face heat up and a bubble of rage rise up my throat, but I pushed it down and turned to Roald. 'What now?' I growled, angry with him for not stopping what had happened. I could have. I knew I could've taken on Atkin, obviously Roald thought I was a weakling who couldn't fight off a dead pig…

'_You_ are to go to dinner,' Roald replied sternly, eyeing me warningly. 

'Oh,' I snapped tersely. 'And I suppose you'll go be a hero of a Prince and demolish the enemy?'

The Prince's face broke into a grim smile as he squeezed my hand. 'You've read too much of my father. I have certain princely duties to attend to, ones I couldn't escape from even if I did follow my friends and jumped off a bridge.'

Chuckling at the face he made, I patted his shoulder sympathetically and winked. 'I'm sure even dead you'd make any girl faint.'

'Gods you're comforting to have around,' he retorted dryly.

'I know.' I smiled graciously and curtsied gracefully, eyeing him slyly. 'Your Majesty.'

He rolled his eyes and crossed his hands over his chest, an impatient look on his face. 'Go to dinner,' he said with a shake of the head. That action was so like Jon's, I had to look twice at him before shaking my own head and retreating to my destination. And that _definitely_ wasn't to dinner.

Knocking on the door I faced, I felt my body flood with fury as my teeth and hands clenched. The rims of my knuckles were white from the pressure and my eyes nearly burned with anger. The door obviously didn't open, so I knocked again, more forcefully. 'Open the door, _now!_' I snarled, patience spent.

Grumbling to myself, I stormed down the hallway and checked the places where the scoundrel might be hiding; coincidently, I found none. Because I didn't _know_ where morons like Atkin skipped off to day and night. 

I froze in place, just when I'd been about to open the trainees' mess hall. 

Chewing on my lip as I lost myself in thought, I squinted my eyes. Where could Atkin be, at this time, after he'd most probably killed a man? Closing my eyes, I thought of different places, but only one stuck. Where else but the hideout for scum like him and his followers? He could either be the leader or a mindless follower himself…

But I didn't know Tortall or its streets, so how was I supposed to look or find his hideout? Was there even a hideout? Was I imagining this whole problem? Was Atkin innocent and me, just looking for trouble? Maybe I'd gotten so bored and had missed all the fights back home, I'd made up one down here…

I made too much sense for my comfort.

But I snapped out of it. _Roald_ knew of this. In a way. So I couldn't possible be imagining it all…

Biting at my nails and the skin around them ferociously, I pondered in serious thought, wondering and wondering where he could possibly be in the Godcursed city. I winced when I tore too much flesh from the side of my thumb, but went on chewing. 

'Taverns,' I thought aloud, snapping my finger. 'But I don't know my way around…if only Roald had…' Drifting off, I chewed on my bottom lip and sighed. Dinner was over, the doors to the mess hall opened and the pages and squires drifted out. 

My eyes widened as I raced to the dining hall, where I usually dined with friends, but there was no one there. 'Oh God…'

Khalil…

I promised, I swore I'd come…

He knew this sort of thing would happen, that's why he made me promise…

_I'm so sorry._

The anger that had controlled me earlier deserted me and instead I was rushed with guilt and shame. Walking somberly back to my room, I slammed into something hard. Dazed, my head swirling, I looked up into the eyes of the Prince. I frowned. He'd said he had some princely duties to attend to, so what was he doing here?

He looked me over expressionlessly and walked off.

Not in the mood for his elusiveness, I went to my room and shut the door. Sandry had moved out to live with her new husband; Hayley was most probably with her guy, and Serena…well, where a heartbroken girl _would_ be—at a pub with boisterous men.

About to jump back on my bed, I noticed a letter and unconsciously raised an eyebrow. Tearing at the waxing, I unrolled the parchment and read.

_Meet me at the Baywolf Hurtling at dinner tomorrow. _

Both eyebrows were now lifted as I frowned at the perfect handwriting. It wasn't signed, but I knew the style of the writing and knew the owner too well. I slid a book out of the bookcase and opened it to page twenty-five, a note fell out. I picked it up and traced the writing, comparing it to the new note.

The older one read:

_Reem,_

_I need an answer; Mithros Reem, you'll be the jewel of the ball, dress or no dress! Promise me the first and last dance at the ball; please say yes,_

_                                                    Love,_

_                                                       Roald_

Smiling distantly, I folded the parchment and placed it back into the book, and the book back into the bookcase. Then I tucked the latest note—which I knew was to be about "the case" (a.k.a. Atkin)—into my pocket and strode out of my room, needing directions. 


	23. Chap 23

A/N: I know the chaps have been boring and long, and I know I'm makin WAY too many chaps ***cringe* **but I'm happy with my fic so far, but if you guys have any complaints, please, speak right up! Tell me to quit writing this pathetic excuse of a fanfic, and I might just surprise you and do just that…I totally understand…thanks for the reviews guys, they keep me enthused! (honestly, without them I wouldn't bother)

The directions I sought out to obtain from a haughty palace guard, who stood rigid and formal, moving only his eyes as he glared at me wholeheartedly—the suspicion thickening his brown eyes. I coughed to get his attention and stepped closer, a stubborn look casting my face.

'Excuse me?' I started, but he went on gazing arrogantly at me, his long nose endowing more affect into the slight action. Not wanting to kick up a fight, I inwardly sighed and stuck on a smile. 'Sir, would you please help me?'

'Don't waste my precious time, wench,' he snarled, and then slid his eyes from me as if I didn't deserve to even be looked at.

_I'm not taking this, _I thought angrily, but pressed my nails into the palms of my hands and prayed for patience as I coughed again for attention. 'Sir, if you'd only tell me—'

_'I said, _move off_, girl!'_ he snapped, and shoved me away.

_What the hell does he have against me? I don't even know him for God's sake!_ 'Well, I don't know what your problem—'

'Mithros, wench, my problem is everyone's problem right now,' he snarled, shoving me hard. I fell back a step. '_You_,' he went on ferociously, his face pinched. 'You and your…_friends…_those dung-infested girls from your "_world"!_  You get told over and over that you're not wanted, but here you remain…in _our land, our world! _Why can you get the point? Is it too much overload to your undersized brains? Get the fuck out of our home, bitches! And don't bother coming back! Godscurse it, you're like _bugs!_ No matter how many times you're _politely _waved off, you still come back…you won't let off till you're _killed…_and I'd do that if the King wasn't so tempted by the lot of you!'

My jaw was tightened as I coldly glanced up at the guard. 'So kill me,' I hissed. 'Go on! Kill me…let's see how your problem ends with killing _girls_ who view things different from you! Come on, why are hesitating? Grab that spear and kill me.' My eyes burned with uncontrolled rage and my voice quivered with absolute intolerance.

I hadn't realized how us "Other-Worlders" had affected the Tortallans; hadn't even cared enough to notice. I reasoned it was because all the Tortallans I _had_ hung around had been fine with us girls and didn't act like we were frightening, incurable viruses a person would rather stab themselves a thousand times than catch. But I still didn't get why…what threat were we to the Tortallans? We didn't bring weapons, we didn't bring a different magic…none of us were trying to revolt against the King, and none of us were threatening people like this guard was. We loved Tortall just as they did, maybe even more…

So why were they so scared of us?

As I looked back up into the face of icy-cold glare of the guard, the answer slapped me.

Change… 

My jaw would've probably broken off with the pressure as I bit down to keep myself from retorting something overly obscene. People were always scared of change, always scared of something different for the mere fact that the thing was unlike anything they'd ever seen before; they didn't know what to expect of it since they knew nothing about it. Therefore, they pushed the "difference" away, in desperate hope that if they didn't have to live with it, they could carry on as normal and not have to seek what was so different about that difference. 

I turned away from the guard and walked off, feeling anger and sadness overwhelm me…

_Tortall is no different to home, _I thought, fighting back tears. _Back there I was judged as different and pushed away because of my race and religion…here again I'm judged because of my background._

Shaking my head, I realized both judgers didn't know anything about my differences. Back home, the racists didn't understand what a wonderful religion Islam was, what a wonderful people Arabs were. Now, in Tortall, none understood that the girls dragged into this "fantasy" world had not planned to come here and had had no choice in the matter. They'd expected a nice and lovely welcome, not a shocked and outraged one. It was like living overseas, away from your homeland for so long, and then coming back and realizing no one knew or cared about you. It was devastating and heartbreaking and you had absolute no control over it.

You didn't belong…not anymore…

I sat in the practice fields, my mind whirling and swirling with nasty doubts and wonderings. I still had to find the directions to the inn, but suddenly I wasn't in the mood for it. Why should I care about an assassination of a world that couldn't care less about me, and would rather kill me? If I did find out who was to be assassinated, would they even want an Other-World girl save them? Would they rather die by the hands of a person of _their_ world than me? 

I shook my head and looked out onto the practice yard, wishing I could be as the boys practicing; I yearned to be accepted, treated equally…have nothing on my mind to trouble me but an ambition to succeed my training and become a Knight. 

But up till now, life had never hinted at ever allowing me to live a simple life. 

No, I had to fight for the simple life. 

Too busy drifting in thought, I didn't notice the figure walking towards me until the shadow blocked the sun that'd been half-blinding me before. When I looked up, I saw it was Kael, a frown on his face and a hand resting on his hip. Again I appreciated his strong build.

'Hey there,' he greeted, and sat down beside me, hands resting on tugged up knees. The frown didn't leave his face as he looked over at me.

'Hey,' I replied, and attempted a smile before looking back out onto the fields; I wasn't in the mood for polite conversation and wasn't about to start one for the sake of Kael, no matter how good he looked in a tight top.

'Is there a reason for you looking so cross?' he asked softly, his gaze now resting on the fields.

I smiled bitterly and shook my head. 'No, I just like putting off people.'

My smile was not returned. There was quite a long silence as I willed Kael to find me so utterly boring, that he'd leave without saying another single word. He was being overly polite, trying to pretend to care, when he hardly knew me. You couldn't possible care about someone you didn't know. It was hard enough caring enough about someone you _did_ know.

That was my sincere and petulant way of thinking, anyway.

'A lot of my friends would love to meet you, you know,' Kael stated, breaking the awkward silence.

My head snapped towards him and I had to laugh. 'I'm sure they would.'

Kael _really_ frowned at me then, and scrutinized me with his steady gaze. 'What's wrong with you?' he demanded.

'Nothing.'

'Any other time you I'd said my friends would love to meet you, you would've sarcastically mentioned they'd run off at the sight of you…or 'yeah sure, right after they fall over themselves running away and screaming like a bloody bushfire was after them!'… so what's wrong? And if I hear you say nothing _one more time_, I'll be forced to introduce you to my lovely friends.'

I couldn't help it… As miserable as I was, I had to laugh. The expression on his face was too sincere, too caring for me. 'Fine. Not a single thing is wrong with me!'

Kael groaned and slapped my arm playfully. 'Come on,' he said, getting up.

'What?!'

'Get up!' he ordered, outstretching a helpful hand for me to accept. 

I squinted my eyes at him, suspicious. 'Where to?'

'Where else? To meet my friends!'

'But—'

'I changed my mind, I'm forcing you to come along, whether you said nothing or not. Yes, I know, I'm a pain. You'll live.' He winked and grinned and then started to drag me over to some hard-training guys.

'Wait…no, what time is it?' I tried to pull his arm away, but I was too whacked out to do anything but wiggle my arm.

Kael let go off me and sighed. 'An hour and a half till noon, why? Lunch can wait you know! You're not getting out of this…'

I bit the bottom of my lip, and my eyes glided towards the squires. They were laughing and joking cheerfully, playing around and slapping each other harmlessly. Maybe this would be fun…maybe they're not like the guards…maybe I needed this…maybe I should stop saying maybe…maybe.

'Alright,' I declared, and before I'd even finished the word, Kael was dragging me over once again to his mates.

After the polite introductions, I stood there and for once in my life, I didn't say a word. Didn't try to make an idiot of myself with a stupid joke or try to get anyone to laugh. Didn't try to include myself into a conversation I hardly knew a thing about. I mainly just half-listened and smiled and nodded when a question was asked of me. 

Finally, when they started to head off to the archery section of the field, Kael took me aside and decided to lecture me. 'What is _wrong _with you? Now they think you're a complete snob because you wouldn't bother—'

'Since when do I care what anyone thinks of me, Kael?' I snapped.

'Since when did you act like a complete—' he stopped and sighed with frustration as he looked down at my infuriating expression of stubborn anger. 'Forget it.'

'What? A complete what? Bitch? Yeah, go on, say it. I know I am,' I growled, eyeing him angrily. 'Look, this is the way I am, no one will ever change it and I won't even bother listening or hanging around people who _want_ to change it! If you were a real friend, you wouldn't ask me to be someone I'm not for the sake of looking and sounding presentable and lovely to your bloody friends, all right? So just…leave me alone! I'm not in the mood for faking laughs and smiles and pretending to be someone I'm not…'

'I never asked you to!' Kael argued, disbelief at my lashing out apparent on his shocked face.

God…why the hell did I say all that? To him of all people! 

Because you weren't even talking to _him_, a side of me snapped bitterly.

I couldn't take all the craziness of the day and so I forced an apologetic smile. 'I'm…sorry, Kael…I just haven't had a good…morning.'

He inspected my face very slowly and then sighed and ran a hadn't through his hair. He looked over his shoulder; his mates were calling him over. He turned back to me, obviously torn about whether to stay and squeeze the truth out of me, or jump back to normalcy and get on with his "manly" duties and leave this psychotic, temperamental freak to dabble with her own life.

He chose the former, and that strangely flushed me with relief and a natural and unforced smile escaped my lips as he shouted back at his friends that he'd be back later. 'You want to get some…brunch?'

I laughed and nodded, my worries forgotten as I watched his sincerely worried expression turn to pleasant content at my agreeing to get some food. So we left the training fields and grabbed some food from the kitchens before heading out to the courtyard. 

We ate and chatted a bit, and when—after three-quarters of an hour—we were about to get up and leave, someone walked into the courtyard and froze my very heart. I choked on my food and felt a blush creep up on my face—and it wasn't because of the pressure to breathe.

Khalil made his way over to us, and after I'd calmed down a bit and had a drink, smiled tightly at me, and nodded at Kael. 'Khalil, I—'

'I'll just be leaving,' Kael murmured, and got up to go. I told him to wait for me at the training fields, I had something to ask of him. He nodded and nodded back politely at Khalil and walked off.

I turned to Khalil, and I had to push back the guilt and shame in order to be even able to look at him. 'Khalil, about—'

'What was it this time?' Khalil interrupted, as if he hadn't heard me. He looked at me with a smile, but it was a sugarcoated and fake smile, and he let me know it. 'Did you…wrestle a bear and get a whack on the head? No. Did you dunk the King with his wine and get arrested? No, no…that wouldn't be it,' he said, a bitter tinge to his voice as he locked his eyes on mine. 'I guess you were too busy swooning over that squire to apologize for not showing up last night?'

My eyes lowered to the grass and I became restless as I tried to avoid his demanding tone and gaze. 'I'm _sorry,_' I whispered.

Khalil shook his head and laughed bitterly. 'You're sorry,' he repeated slowly, eyeing me strangely.

'_Yes,_ I'm sorry, Khalil…' 

'You're a fuckin' liar, that's what you are' he hissed.

His harsh tone and use of words shocked me and I felt my eyes widen as I forced myself to look up at him. I was literally _ashamed…_I hadn't thought of how Khalil'd feel when I'd stand him up by hurrying off on some stupid fruitless quest. In fact, I hadn't even thought of Khalil the whole while. I was a heartless bitch. I desperately wanted to wipe the let down and hurt look on Khalil's face, but I knew whatever I said wasn't going to help. It'd just double his anger and triple the hurt.

_I don't deserve you_, I thought, tears freely flowing from my eyes as I continued to gaze at Khalil's hurt-twisted face. _I never deserved you as a friend, and I won't _ever_ deserve you as a boyfriend._

'Khalil if I could change—'

'No,' he cut in again, his tone thick with unhidden rage. 'No, don't apologize. Don't explain yourself. Just…just tell me…and be honest…do you want _us_ to work?'

I do…God, I do… 

'I don't know.' The coarse voice wasn't mine…why was I saying that? I wanted us to work, badly…what was wrong with me? Had I finally lost it? Probably have, I shouldn't be too surprised…I'd always been a tad over crazy…

I couldn't bear to look up again at Khalil, so my head remained bowed and the grass my main interest. 'Why?' Khalil's voice cracked as he too fought his own emotions.

Why I want us to work? You make me happy; you never let me down, you always make me laugh and never once did you go out of your way to make me miserable like everyone else already has….I can trust you with my life…I never have to worry about saying what's on my mind because you already know without having to even look at me. 

I love you.

'You're like a brother,' I found myself saying, and finally looked up. 'And…that doesn't make it feel right…'

Khalil's expression blanked as he put a rein to his emotions and regarded me expressionlessly. I didn't have to look closely to see he was angry and worse than devastatingly hurt. 'Right,' he finally said, and I envied his toneless voice. My voice was high-pitched and crazy sounding. 

'I'm sorry,' I said again, for a different reason.

Khalil shook his head and silently walked out of the courtyard.

The expression on his face when he turned to leave exploded the last tears out of me, and I sat there for a while, crying. My heart tightened and tightened with every tear drop until I felt every bit of emotion was drained out of me. 

And that's when I knew; I was ready to face Atkin.

*                            *                            *

I met Kael outside, and from the look on his face, I knew he'd seen Khalil's expression as I had. But I merely shook my head when he began to ask the question I knew I couldn't answer. 'I need directions,' I stated, my tone and gaze daring him to object as the guard had.

He nodded and I showed him Roald's note.

I thanked him after he'd written the direction on the back of the note—he'd wanted to come along, but the look I'd given him when he'd uttered the suggestion had shut him up well and he'd sighed and wrote the directions down. I took a deep breath before I turned to leave and swap the semi-safety of the palace walls to the open streets of Tortall…

It didn't take me long, about ten minutes passed before I was standing in front of the Baywolf Hurtling; it was in worse condition than the Street Sunshine had been in. The door itself was nothing more than a wooden _thing_ only pitifully held by a half-rotten hinge. The rest of the inn was in a disgraceful manner; as I walked in, I nearly tripped over broken chairs and fallen over tables. Rats infested the place and I was shocked to see no cobwebs as the cliché went. But what was the most peculiar thing to me was the fact that the place was deserted.

No landlord. No bartender. Nothing.

Just absolute quiet.

I tried to breathe through my mouth instead of my nose since the stench of muskiness was way out of control, but ended up coughing from the dust that I breathed in. 

A shiver ran down my spine as I considered my options: should I leave and get away from this disgusting and creepy place? Or wait a while to see what comes out of the lovely visit…

I decided on the latter and looked around the dark inn, hoping the weak roof wouldn't collapse over my head while I waited as patiently as I could get without getting paranoid.

'Well, well, well…'

The voice sprang me into action and I whirled around, knees bent and ready for attack. I guess I was very grateful for the self-defense and martial art lessons I'd dragged myself off to after school, every day.

What the— 

'Shocked?' Atkin asked with a wry smile. 'Don't be.'

But…Roald… 

'_You_ gave me that note?' I croaked, disbelief flooding my voice.

Atkin shrugged, a bored look enclosing his dark face. 'Who'd you think it was? The Prince?'

My jaw automatically clenched as I glowered at him spitefully. 

His laugh echoed about the abandoned inn, making me shudder and ripple goosebumps all over my body. 'Oh, you did? That's so…_naïve _of you! I guess everything went better than I'd expected.'

I eyed him sternly, wishing him very harmful and torturing deaths of all kinds as I listened to his sickeningly smooth voice. 'Why?' I demanded harshly.

His bored look grew and he yawned as he flicked a hand at me. 'You were so suspicious, I had to convince you I was not what you think.'

I rolled my eyes, strangely gaining strength with every word I uttered. 'You wasted your time. But I guess you have a lot of that on your hands…too much of it. Which is why you do what you do then, eh? Destroy other people's lives for the mere fact that _you_ yourself don't have a life to live? Does it bring that much satisfaction, Atkin?'

The bored look was swapped for a look that clearly stated he was practically just slapped in the face. It was obvious he was about to cuss most colourfully at me before he barely contained himself and changed his mind; the sickening smile reappeared on his face. 'You're interesting enough,' he stated. 'But you're too overconfident—'

'You graduated me in that degree, _master,_' I said dryly, sweeping him a challenging glare. 

He squinted his eyes at me and sighed, surprising me with a look of _relief_. 'Well. I've warned you.'

I raised my eyebrow at him, but he merely smirked at me before leaving the trashed and musky inn. Frowning with suspicion, I looked about me one more time before my eyes froze on something that lay readily on the only table that wasn't upturned or broken. Curiosity won over caution and I walked over to what turned out to be a burlap bag and a note. The note to me was the most interesting and so I inspected that first.

_Reem,_

_Katsunyu determines the fate of Laryan at noon; meet me at the Baywolf Husking to finish of the deal. You've done very well so far: three dead by your hands without a single clue to be trailed after._

_-A.K_

My heart beat fast as I folded the note and tucked it into my pocket, determining I had to get out of the inn, _that instant_. This was too much, I had never meant to delve this much into this case… Getting _this_ involved had already cost me way more than I had to lose and I didn't want to go further into this case and lose _hope_ of getting what I'd already lost back.

I was about to open the burlap bag and see what was inside it when I was thrown off balance and knocked over into a wall. I felt my head bang into the creaking wall and then it swirled. My vision blurred immediately and I had no time to defend myself before I was held up against the wall and a knee was rammed into my stomach. 

I pushed back the pain and threw a punch at the attacker, but my punch was blocked and my head was thumped in return. Groaning, I tried to fight back but I had no choice in the matter as the last hit to my head sent me sprawling on the floor, very close to unconsciousness.

My blurred vision and pounded and close-to-deaf ears didn't help me as I heard voices flood my mind and my attacker tie my hands behind my back. The rope scratched and bloodied my wrists and I puked my lunch all over the grimy inn floor. Someone searched me thoroughly and soon there were muffled gasps and shouting.

I felt myself being hauled up and thrown into a carriage, and then very—too slowly—I started losing feeling of my body and my body shut itself off into unconsciousness.

*                            *                            *

'Goddess…'

'Mithros, I never—'

'Shh, she's awakening…'

'But you said—'

'Shh!'

My eyes fluttered open and I found myself lying in a small, dark room. As I craned my neck to look around, and after my head roared its protest, I realized I didn't recognize the room. As I let my eyes get accustomed to the new bearings, I found my body was roaring with pain.

I rubbed my eyes and looked about the room, pushing back the pain.

It was a very stuffy and barely furnished room. The bed I lay in was simple; the bedsheets were a plain white, the walls were grey and the only other furniture was the chair someone sat on and a bedside table.

I felt like my whole body had been battered in some bloody battle, but when I ordered my arm to move, it moved. I did the same to all my limbs until I was assured that no bone was broken and it was all mainly just bruises and such. Turning to look closely at the people in the room, I suddenly began to wonder _why_ I was there…

This wasn't my room…

I frowned and realized Kael and some unknown woman were standing beside me, looking worried and hopeful. 'Where am I?' I croaked, my voice seemingly unused and cracked.

Kael's look was of pity, but I was too tired to object to that certain emotion. 'Well?' I demanded shakily, trying to sit up. I was mainly just exhausted; like I'd slept for too long and feeling sleepily tired. No one met my eyes as I swept them both at the woman and Kael.

'You…' Kael started but then went quiet and bit his lip as he looked back at the woman. She nodded, as if he'd asked her a question when all he'd done was look at her, and then turned to me. 'We need to get you changed. His Majesty specifically asked to see you as soon as you were awake.' 

Suddenly memory flooded me like a slap in the face and I was knocked speechless 

_The Inn…_

_Atkin…_

_The note…_

_The bag…_

_The fight…_

This room.

Kael and the woman had left by the time I'd organized my thoughts. I ignored my body's protests as I got up and off the bed. Looking around, I saw a washing basin and soap, so I washed my face and splashed it with as much water as possible. I wished I could splash it out of this seemingly hazy dream, but this was plain and nasty reality.

_The King,_ I thought weakly.

Pushing back the thought of the "meeting", my eyes slid to the end of my bed, where clothes lay. So I replaced my clothes for the new ones and sighed as I turned to look one last time at the dim room before opening the door and facing two guards.

They wordlessly seized either of my arms and practically dragged me to the King's office. I didn't object because I was too mentally and physically exhausted to, and what was the point of kicking up a fight? I just wanted to see the outcome…

The King raised his eyes from the sheets of parchments as the guards dumped me on the chair and threateningly hovered beside me at either side. I sighed and rubbed my eyes tiredly as I waited for His Majesty to snap and growl at me. But he merely sighed in return and set down his quill to look at me.

'Reem, you know what you've done?' he said warily.

I shook my head.

He pursed his lips. 'I've come to a decision,' he stated.

I waited patiently, suddenly feeling like I couldn't care less if I was killed on the spot. It didn't matter. The one person I truly cared about despised me. The other person I trusted and loved was back Home, believing I was dead or something. This new "home" I did not belong in and was hated and treated just as badly as I'd been treated in my own world. 

'Laryan of Denalt was found by his wife, dead, an hour past noon. He was stabbed to death,' the King enlightened me with an emotionless gaze.

_Laryan…_I thought, _the note…the note that was meant for me…_

_Trap._

I was about to explain myself, but the King went on. 'Apparently, you were found with a note, a rather disheartening note. I won't ask where or how you obtained it. But you were also found with a bag. That bag contained evidence.'

Something stopped me from interrupting and telling my side of the story, and so I went on gazing expressionlessly at the King, giving him no hint as to what I was thinking or to what I had, or hadn't, done. 

'Do you have anything to say?' the King asked, not kindly, but also not unkindly. Neutrally.

I shrugged and kept my eyes on the King's. 'Nothing that would interest you,' I said, my voice was still husky.

The King pursed his lips again and nodded, and then picked up his quill again. 'You've been charged with murder…_three_ murders. And you have nothing to say?'

I smiled resignedly and leaned back on the chair. 'What I say, I told you, will make you roll your eyes. You've probably heard it too often anyway. I wouldn't wanna bore you to death, no matter how much shit you accuse me off.'

 I got a thwack to the side of my head for that, from the guard to my right side. 'The King asked you to speak for yourself, _speak,_' he growled gruffly.

'Alright,' I murmured, and turned my gaze back to the King's. 'I didn't do it,' I simply said.

The King nodded and looked me over, then flicked his eyes to the guards and with one look they were out of the room, the one who'd whacked me looking shame-faced from the glare the King had gave him. When they were gone, the King turned to me with a sigh. 'Why, Reem?'

'Why what, Your Majesty?' I asked, wondering why he hadn't believed me. He really thought I'd kill three people? Did I look _that_ dangerous? I'd never acted like a serial killer…I never thought so anyway…

'Why did you—'

'I told you what I said wouldn't interest you,' I interrupted. 

'No,' the King said with a faint smile. 'I wasn't going to ask why you killed those people, because I know you didn't.'

'But you just said—'

The King rolled his eyes at me. 'I'm required to probe supposed accused people with questions and intimidating comments to get the truth out of them. But I already know the truth.' His eyes locked on mine and there was a question to them.

'No, Your Majesty, I didn't kill anyone.'

'Of course you didn't,' he replied. 'But it _is_ rather suspicious to people that all the three murders you supposedly committed happened while you were away from the palace.'

My eyebrows rose. _How very clever of you, Atkin!_ 'Oh? That's comforting,' I said dryly.

The King made a face at me and then sighed, as if there was a huge burden on his shoulders and he couldn't hold it on his shoulders anymore. 'For the sake of the conservatives, I'm going to have to put you under strict watch.'

I sent him a quizzical look. _Strict watch?_

'You'll remain in your room, with guards outside your room,' the King explained softly. 'You'll be supplied with sufficient food by the guards and if you desperately need to leave the room, you'll be led by the guards to the courtyard for some fresh air. This will go on until we find the _real_ murderer.'

_I know who it is…_I thought desperately.

'You don't know who it is?' I asked snappily.

The King didn't flinch at my suddenly angry tone. 'No, we don't. The three murders have been kept quiet this long to keep the conservatives from frothing at the mouth and going overly insane.'

'But…can't you get DNA testing?' I said quickly, not knowing _why_ I didn't just speak of Atkin and get this whole unfair matter over with. I was being treated like a criminal! When the King _knew _I hadn't done it…

The King gave me a 'what-the?' look and I realized what I'd asked. I fought back hysterical laughter.

_You're lucky you're being treated like a crim and not a murderer,_ a dry side of me said. I frowned. I guessed I _was_ lucky…I mean it must have taken a fair bit for the King to be allowed to keep me in my room guarded and not thrown into a dungeon or killed, like I knew the conserves where wishing and whining about. With the proof there and ready, I was amazed the King had been able to pull of something like this…keep me only locked up in my room and not killed, that is. 

I ignored the question _how?_ and began to wonder why I was so against speaking out about Atkin and his cronies. _No proof, you dolt! They'll think you're blaming anyone blindly to get out of it…_

But the Prince knew…

And why would a crim be allowed to talk to a Prince?

I sighed and chewed on the bottom of my lip.

'Do you need anything, before you get locked up?' the King asked, eyeing me kindly. 

I shook my head. 'No.'

But then I thought everything through and changed my mind. 'Actually, yes… D'you know that very thick and strong…erm, wool?' I asked cautiously.

The King raised an eyebrow. 'You want to knit?' he asked with obvious disbelief.

I forced a smile. 'I'm that angry…and I'll be _that_ bored.'

Jonathon eyed me for a fair bit—and I held my breath while he did so—but then he nodded—and I inwardly sighed with relief—and said he'd send over some wool. 'Lots of it, please,' I said, smiling gratefully. The King merely nodded and called for the guards, who then dragged me into my room, which had been cleared of all possible sharp objects or anything that could be used as a weapon. The bedside tables were gone and the closet was bare except for a few new clothes items. The window was covered with a new, dark material that was somehow stuck to the walls and didn't seem weak enough to be able to be pulled off by a girl my age. Candles burnt at each corner of the room and one on the study desk in the middle of the room. Serena, Hayley and Sandry's beds were gone and the room felt bare and too big.

I heard the lock to the door click in place, and I immediately fell into a pool of panic.

Everything had happened too fast. Things had gone wrong too quick. I hadn't done anything to stop them…and now…now I had to sit here and _sew._

I smiled at the last thought and sat myself down on the bed, waiting for the wool to arrive so I could literally drag myself out of the boredom and panic that would soon wash over me.

_Smart, Atkin, _I thought spitefully, _very smart… unfortunately for you, not nearly smart enough to rid yourself of me. No, unlike you, my threats are more than _threats. _They're promises with a bitter twist…and you're at the receiving end, arsehole._


	24. Chap 24

A/N: Phew, holidays now! (for two weeks) so I might have a few updates…but I dunno, this story is blockin me X( so dunno how far I'll go with it, but I'm really hopin I'll finish it off, coz I do like it! Some chaps are plain…well, stupid, but eh…the idea's not too bad I guess *cringe*  I split this chap in half, coz it was way too long…and if there's horrible mistakes and such, sorry, I didn't have time to edit :( blah, hope you guys like it! Oh, and don't be too surprised if the relationships turn out like –nothing- you'd expect ;) *hint hint Kaye* but then again, they might…ya never know…

I was trapped.

The guard sneered and began to take taunting, slow steps towards me, the buckles on his boots making a scrutinizing noise with each step. The look he gave me was non-too-friendly. In fact, it was every bit nasty…but I knew I could not do anything then to bring more trouble to myself. So I held a composed pose, in the corner. 

But as soon as he stepped an inch too close, my defence went up; eyes squinted and fists clenched tight. Seemingly automatically, my knees bent, ready for an attack.

The guard noticed the change and snorted disgustingly, stopping a few inches away from me. 'Dun' be scared,' he drawled, licking his lips. 'I've met girls like ye…I know what ye want.'

'I'm sure if you knew what I want,' I hissed, 'you'd be miles away from Tortall by now.'

He snickered again and lashed out, but I blocked him and threw a punch at his face. The fight was pointless, to me. The guard wasn't very good without his weapon, once I'd kicked them away, and soon he was fighting with unthoughtful rage rather than skill.

The anger did help him though; when he'd locked me in a tight grip from the back, I inwardly cursed myself for lack of concentration. Taking a deep breath, I rammed the back of my foot deep into his toes. His grip immediately loosened and I pulled away, turning around to kick his bent down face. That was that, and I was about to make my escape, when the other guard who'd went off to get some lunch ran into the room, having heard the commotion. 

I stopped in my place and counted to ten before turning back around and sitting back on the bed, my gaze distant as I heard the guard growl angrily and drag his painfully recovering partner out of the room. Both threw me spiteful and trouble-promising looks as they left. 

The door locked, the sound seemingly four times louder than ever before.

I shuddered as what could've happened hit me and I thanked God for the self-defence classes I'd dragged myself of to nearly every day of my life back Home. Turning to the closed up window, I shivered. _I gotta do this now_, I thought grimly, and my eyes quickly flickered to the candles burning at the two back corners of the room.

Nodding determinedly, I brought them to the window sill, setting them up neatly and waiting for my heart to stop racing wildly. When it finally went back to beating to a normal pace, I held up the candles in each hand, and watched the flames lick at the ends of the grey, thick and firm material that was strapped from the top of the window, to the bottom. A prison curtain you could say. Soon, but rather too slowly, the material was half consumed by the brightly-flickering flame, and I prayed to God the guards wouldn't burst into the room if the burning smell carried outside the door.

When the last bit of flame quenched its hunger into the rough material, I squinted my eyes as the bright sun hit my face, momentarily blinding me. I couldn't _believe_ it had been _days_ since I last got out of this hellhole of a room! 

I looked back at the wool near my door and grimaced. _I couldn't just ask for rope, could I? I had to go asking for something stupid like _wool! _Of all the things to ask for…!_

Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I began to braid the wool into strong and thick plaits. Strong enough to climb down sills from.

Humming myself as I worked, I knew by the time I'd finished with the wool, and climbed out of the room, the guards would have nodded themselves off to sleep, or went off for some afternoon tea.

I was safe…for now.

*                        *                      *

By the time I was half-way down the demented, _woollen_ rope that ripped the skin of my palms and blistered them nastily, the boys in the practice yards had spread the word of a girl climbing down a window.

_Just_ what I needed!

_Attention._

_Shit, shit, shit!_

I knew I was panicking…my heart was beating harder than it ever had even while I'd watched Silence of the Lambs, and that was definitely saying something. Trying to reassure myself that I'll be fine, I just needed to go down a bit further didn't calm me down…at _all_. The idea of having to get _down_ was hard enough without having to deal with the fact that I didn't have a clue of where to go_ or_ what to do once I _was_ down there!

_Find Atkin, what else?_ the fearless part of me said.

_No way! Too much trouble, just run off somewhere safe!_ was the common-sense reply.

_Coward. Roald wouldn't even hesitate._

_It's called playing it safe…_

_So you're safe and others die? Oh that's very heroic!_

_I'm not trying to be heroic!_

I shook my head violently to clear the inwards battle. And what a battle that was…stupid vs stupider. Common sense against out-there Heroic. Definitely not something I wanted to listen to while I was hanging 10 feet off a building. I just hope if I ever decide to end my life, those certain two parts of me won't be arguing…

The rope tugged, and I bit back a scream as I was swung sideways and nearly crashed right into wall; my right hand slammed against the concrete wall as I fought to keep balance. My head spun and I had to fight back the bile that rose in my dry throat. I looked up reluctantly, but there wasn't a leering guard hanging from the window, ready to hack the rope.

I frowned, and then looked down.

_Oh shit…_

I was caught between climbing back up or just jumping right off and dying an interesting death of a cracked skull. My eyes watered as a strong wind blew and blew at my hanging, shivering figure. 

'Get down!' Roald hissed from below.

_Don't trust him…_

I clenched my teeth as the battle re-ignited.  

_Of _course_ you can trust him! How many times has he saved your sorry butt?_

_So what? Not like he cares about you anymore._

_Liar._

_Right back at ya._

I was about to laugh hysterically at how childish my inner thoughts were, when this time I _knew_ the tugging was coming from above. I didn't need to look up to see it was a guard; the loud cussing was enough proof. Taking a deep breath, I continued my path down to half-a-second-of-freedom. 

The rope swung wildly as the guard attempted to tear it up, but I'd made sure it was too thick and tight for that. I screamed this time as he twisted the rope, sending me to sway uncontrollably from side to side. But each time I brought up and pushed my palms sturdily against the wall and rebounded roughly, jeering my teeth with every swing.

I could hear Roald cursing darkly and moments later, I heard him shout something up at me. Sounded like a command…well of course. Princes should get used to commands. They receive and deliver a lot of them, don't they? Special little things. Gotta listen to their King daddies and pay close attention to their commands, or else they're bad, bad princes! 

Listening closer, I heard him say _let go of the rope._

I was about to call him something rather unappealing when I looked up to see the guard slowly descending the rope…obviously he didn't like heights much, but that wasn't stopping him.

Gasping, I looked down at Roald, saw his impatient and extremely worried expression, and closed my eyes. _Great, so I gotta _die_ to keep things happy? _

_Just trust him…he's never done anything to hurt you._

The stubborn, pessimistic side of me for once in my entire life remained quiet, and for a moment, I felt the pressure unload…totally disappear. A heavy weight lifted off my shoulder, and any trace of a headache, _any_ sort of ache, subsided quickly and then completely vanished. It left me feeling light and careless. At peace, really…

But then the moment ended and I was letting go of the robe as the guard went for a swipe at me.

_Maybe hell isn't as bad a place as they make it out to be, _I thought glumly, as I plummeted down. 

Feeling a vibrating thud, my head went into daze-mode, and my eyes were streaming with tears, but I never opened them. The rest of me was numb…way too numb for movement, so I knew I was most definitely dead…or maybe death wasn't the worst thing that had happened.

I opened my eyes to expect flames and a spiffy little minion of evil guiding me to Evil Headquarters, but what I saw was Roald's face, upside down. 'Eh…what're ya doin hangin' from the wall?' I mumbled, hand flying to head as I rubbed it with a grimace. It felt as heavy as a bloody planet.

But he just shook his head and laughed, then he mumbled something and _I flipped right around, _landing on the cei--…oh alright…floor. So _I'd_ been hanging in the air? I certainly didn't feel any wings on my back. Definitely never will be angelic enough to get to be an angel.

So what gives?

As soon as my heat hit earth…gravel, whatever, Roald took my hand and dragged me into a sprint away from the building. We took corners and hallways as I heard the guard swear odiously at our backs. I had to laugh madly, the passing of four days worth of unreal events crashing down on me as I shook my head again and again. I couldn't believe all this…_stuff_ of _stories_ had happened to me…

To my side, Roald now had an angry and solemn expression on his face as he ran smoothly, not puffing hysterically like I was. Grimacing at the exercise I'd have to do to get back into the right fitness level if I came out of this ordeal alive, I nearly crashed into a wall as Roald halted abruptly.

'What…now?' I puffed, grateful that I wasn't aching, merely puffed out.

But what I was, was very numb.

Roald looked me over, with an expression clearly stating I wasn't worth the trouble he'd gone to, but then sighed and shook his head. 'We…_you've_ got to get out of here. The guards won't search here…for now. So you can just go. Mirthos, Reem…what is _wrong_ with you? You didn't have to drag _everyone_ into this if you so badly wanted some action in your life…Look, just—I'll help you, but you…oh Gods. You gotta—'

'Yeah, alright,' I interrupted, absolutely _hating_ the look of pity and uneasy he directed at me as he looked over his shoulder expectantly. 'I'll be fine—'_ not that you care_, 'so just…go.'

I turned around and stalked off, but he trailed after me, and in three steps, he was in front of me, a hand outstretched to stop my angry steps from carrying my any further. 

'What?' I snapped.

'I'm going with you,' he whispered after a moment of hesitation, smoothing back his hair with his spare, shaking hand.

I rolled my eyes and pushed his hand away, but stood still. 'You don't have to force your prince-in-shining-armour duty out on me. It'd be such a waste. And I'm not some pretty little innocent and close-to-death princess waiting for you at a castle of some sort. Just go live a happy, normal life, alright?

'I'm a big girl. I can more than take care of myself.'

Roald remained quiet for a bit, and then smiled grimly. 'You're not a princess,' he began, 'but what you _are_ is close-to-death, in a castle of 'some sort', and _this_ is _my_ sort of happy, normal life. With you in it.'

I knew I should have felt some sort of happy fluttering in my heart, stomach, wherever. But I didn't. All I felt was the migraine in my head, signalling the need for a Panadol…unfortunately Tortall didn't supply it.

'Roald, a Prince can't be involved in this sort of thing,' I whispered. _Well, whatever this thing is anyway…an assassination case? Whatever._

'Then I won't come as a Prince,' he replied stubbornly. 'I'll come as a…a friend. If not guide. You realize you don't know where we are right now.'

I cursed. 'Yes, I do.'

'And who around here do you trust to get you out of here and to safety?' He raised his eyebrow expectantly, not betraying a look of triumph.

'The guard coming to get me?' I guessed, smiling.

I got a whack on the arm for that, so I rolled my eyes. 'Alright! You…happy? But that doesn't mean—'

'Oh yes it does…now. Time to start doing some serious talking. Follow me.'

I made a face at his back as he turned to lead me into some secret place of some sort, me totally unaware of where we were and where we'd end up. For all I knew, he could be leading me to a gaol, or something worse. 

Something worse always crept up on me anyway…

After two hallways and one hidden door leading to…well, here really…I looked around to see a rather large room, with a bed, desk, sofa and a door leading to some other place totally unknown to me.

'What's in there?' I asked as Roald closed—locked the doors. Magically, I supposed.

He turned to look at the door when he finished. 'Supplies,' he said. Then, 'Food,' as I looked at him questioning. 'Weapons, clothes…necessities.'

'I'm guessing for a siege?'

He nodded grimly and sat back on the bed, sighing.

I felt bad.

Real bad.

Rotten was the word.

I'd dragged him into this…in a way.

Well, _he_ had dragged me into this room, but I'd unconsciously dragged him into this by getting closer and closer to him. So practically, this was sort of my fault. No, I take that back, _completely_ my fault!

How could I be so _stupid?_ Going after someone probably _trained_ like _Atkin_ and thinking I could hunt him down and lock him up in jail? With no evidence? No _nothing?_

'I'm sorry,' I blurted, collapsing into the chair near the desk.

Roald sat up. 'What?'

'I got you here…got _us_ here…if only I'd just _stuck to my business,_ instead of butting into everyone else's—'

'Reem, what are you talking you?' the Prince demanded.

I looked up and frowned. 'Atkin.'

'And you're apologizing because…?'

'_I got us into this!'_

'Oh?' Roald drawled. 'Yes, you're right. So should I start screaming at you for all the trouble you've caused the both of us now? Sorry, I'm a bit busy for that…saving our lives and all.'

I grit my teeth. 'Smooth, Roald. Very smooth. Couldn't have _possibly_ made me feel _any _better!'

'Stop feeling sorry for you…and me. I can take care of myself,' Roald snapped, shaking his head impatiently. 'Now I don't know what you had in mind to do after you got out of your room, so if you find any error in my plan, just tell me. Alright?'

I nodded somberly, relaxing back against the chair. _He wants to help…and he's not yelling. That's good…I hope._

First he asked me a few questions.

'The reason,' I began in explanation to his "why-were-you-arrested-in-a-deserted-inn", 'is I got a…um, note. I thought it was from you…but obviously it wasn't.'

'What did it say?' Roald asked.

'Something like "meet me at the Baywolf Hurtling at dinner"…so anyway…once I got there, from the look of the place, I knew it wasn't good news.' _But I trusted you._ 'Atkin popped out of nowhere and then…disappeared. I looked around and saw a bag. The note caught my attention so I read it, and then took it for evidence.' _Sure, evidence _against_ you, smartarse!_ 'I was about to check out what was in the bag, but then someone knocked me out.' I grimaced at the memory. It hadn't been a gentle bring-down. At all.

Roald nodded absently and sighed. 'Do you remember, when I—we eavesdropped in the guests' wing?'

_So that's where that was? _'With that old-ish man?'

Roald shrugged. 'Probably. Well, they weren't talking about what they were _meant_ to be talking about.'

I raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied. 'What _were_ they meant to be talking about?'

'Rice,' he replied.

My expression clearly stated I thought Roald was going mad. 'Rice?'

Roald nodded absently. 'They came as elected headmen of the main farmlands, here to do business with the King. About rice.'

'Rice,' I repeated, even slower this time.

'Yes.'

I shook my head. 'Now that's an incredible coverup if I've ever see one. No one'd expect the rice-lords, would they? O Mighty Rice Lord, hear my prayer! Grant me seasonal r—'

'_Reem!'_

I made a face at Roald's warning glare. 'I'm just tryin to lighten the mood here,' I grumbled. _God knows what sort of self-pity I'd get myself into if I thought too hard…_

'So?' I prompted the Prince, sitting up straighter now that I saw the edgy expression on his face.

'What?'

'What _were_ they talking bout?'

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, clearly thoroughly exhausted. Of what, I was yet to perceive. 'Dealings.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes.'

'And?'

'What?'

I clenched my fists. 'Mind being _specific,_ Roald? That would definitely help with the whole scheming we're gonna have to do if you'll finish your side of this fucked up mess.'

He didn't even blink as I threw all my unconcealed anger at him, merely stared at me blankly. Strangely calm. 'They've got gangs…Atkin isn't even the leader. Merely a look-out. He was placed in the Palace to keep the real brains behind the plotting posted about the on-goings there…he actually grew up in the Yamans. A brute and disliked noble with great connections—in favour of his parents, of course. His parents were originally Tortallans, but they moved to the Yamani Islands once Atkin's father got some sort of job dealing with the less powerful end of the Royalties. Atkin was barely two when they did the move.  

'His parents sent him off to train as a page, him being their only son, they wanted him a tough and powerful Knight…Atkin was more interested in his parent's business, so that's what became his side-line job.

'When he got in contact with the _wrong_ end of the client connections, he got a bit too interested. What he dug up was a rebellion, within Tortall…and the "headquarters" are strangely back in the Yamans. He's been aiding them ever since, bringing in the money and support…

'From various…sources, I've heard that Atkin's movements have been tracked by Tortallan spies ever since he became a squire…probably got overconfident and slipped up here and there and didn't bother to cover up. Now when Atkin realized he was never going to be anything more than a petty look-out, he wasn't too pleased. Hence the kitchen incident.'

I frowned at him, the information seeping into me as I digested it overly quickly, hoping to formulate a plan right that instant from gathering the simple recourses. 'I never did understand that kitchen incident…' I mumbled, hinting at Roald to further explain the latter.

He complied reluctantly, maybe even dryly. 'The…_package_ he obtained from the kitchen was a gift from his fellow cronies. A sort of…_warning_.'

My frown deepened. 

The boy with him…the crash…sound of bones breaking…

A silence held and thickened as I tried to add up everything and come up with a sane and helpful conclusion.

'It was the evidence that was used against you,' Roald went on quietly.

It came crashing down.

'They want him out, don't they?' I breathed. 'Is…is that what you heard that time in the corridor? When they were meant to be discussing rice?'

Roald nodded somberly, and got up. He started pacing the room, betraying the calm and controlled expression his face held. 'Reem…he's our source.'

'To the rebels?' I asked softly, thoughtful.

'To the rebels,' Roald confirmed grimly.

'You have a plan in mind, don't you?'

Again, he nodded, less reluctantly and more stubbornly. He stopped his pacing and turned to look at me with abounding sincerity and concern. 'Reem, you can pull yourself away from this…I can….help you get away from Tortall. You can live a—'

'Normal life?' I cut in grimly, shaking my head sadly. 'I gave up on ever believe any life can be a normal one the day I found out the truth about life.' _Life is full of lies, and nothing but. It's a spiral of hate, selfishness and inequality. Nothing can be normal if you chose to take a different path to that your fellow race takes…_

The Prince slipped his hand in mine and squeezed affectionately, but try as I might, I couldn't feel any spasms of joy at his touch. Absolutely nothing but sincere gratitude that he actually cared for me. As a friend. I didn't know whether to be thankful, or guilty.

'Well if you want out, at any time…just tell me,' he whispered, stroking my cheek.

I nodded and looked away. 'Even if it's in the middle of an operation of some sort? While I'm holding a knife at Atkin's throat?'

Roald smiled. 'I don't promise not to inflict horrible harm to you, but yes. Quit this…_operation_ at any time.' When I nodded with a tart smile, he got down to business. 'I don't promise complete success with this plan, but I've gather enough recourses about Atkin to help us along…Now I know you don't think you have any sort of magic, but I know you have a special ability, if I can just get you to…'

And our plan went on from there. I grew more interested with every confident word that came out of Roald's prominent mouth. He held the gaze of a powerful and sharp man…his very expression told of perceptive qualities, and his stance exposed his strong leadership capabilities.

The fact that he was a Prince added to his influential traits, and gave him a hell lot of an advantage. 

 

*                        *                      *

'Ready?' Roald whispered, as I tucked the dagger into its sheath at my side. I couldn't properly wield a sword, so I hadn't bothered with that…I'd just stuck to a trusty dagger. And my self-defence experience. I nodded at him as he prepared himself. We stood outside Atkin's (coincidentally also Roald's) room, me dressed as a page. Roald didn't really need any disguise. 

First Roald knocked, but no reply came, so he sighed and opened the door. He stepped in, me waiting outside as a conspicuous "bodyguard", ready for any sort of suspicious behaviour. 

But after a moment or so, Roald popped out with a scowl. 'Not there?' I asked with obvious disappointment.

He shook his head. 'All his stuff is gone,' the Prince informed me grimly. 'His clothes, his books…everything.'

I cursed colourfully and bit my lip. What had I expected?! An easy way out? Yeah, tough. So time for Plan B. 'Let's go then!' I snapped, more to myself, and we immediately headed off out of the Palace, me trailing after Roald as a lowly page would. 

*                        *                      *

I stood outside the inn, again waiting for Roald's signal to get inside. My arms were crossed over my chest as if defiantly, and my face was twisted into a scowl, putting off anybody who got the idea to talk to a strange-looking page. If they figured I'm a girl, they'd probably wonder if a _new_ girl had been allowed to become a Knight…and Gods knew how it'd turn out after that.

But fortunately it wasn't as busy and crowded outside as it was inside the inn. So there weren't too many busybodies outside, waiting to pick out a victim among the crowd. Thankfully…

Blanking my face, I forced my mind to clear of thoughts as I attempted to gain control of it. I had to practice, if only for a few seconds, so I didn't completely destroy my chance out of this mess by not being able to control my own thoughts. Or others' for that matter. I _had_ to put a grip on these "special powers" I had. They probably had a name, but Numair had never mentioned it, so I had to stick with special powers. 

Shaking my head from the crowding thoughts, I went back to trying out a little experiment. My eyes roamed the nearly-deserted street until I found a middle-aged homeless woman, looking expressionlessly into her empty money-platter. But I changed my mind, knowing if I did go that way, it'd just be wrong. The woman had probably had enough to deal with without having a panicking teenaged reject reading her mind.

So I looked about me for another victim and found a little girl humming to herself as she sat under the shade of a lonely tree, her shabby features striking innocence more than anything else. She held a doll in her hand, and pranced it about the grimy paved ground merrily, not a care of the poor state she lived in. The blonde bush of hair was sticking out of her matted head at odd ends, grimy and seemingly content with not having been showered in most probably over a week.

Perfect…

I closed my eyes and relaxed my posture, then drained my mind of any wonderings, doubts or basically any thoughts. The next step was to pinpoint my victim and…oh God, how was I supposed to know? I couldn't do things this way! I had to look at the girl, try to experience what she was going through; feel the emotions she's trying to express; wish for the same things she hoped for; expect the same things she predicted would occur…

Be as she was to understand what she'd be thinking…and finally _hear_ what she was thinking.

Nodding unwaveringly, I opened my eyes and settled my eyes on the little girl. The doll was now on the floor, and she was yelling at her angrily, as if blaming her for something. So I rounded up feelings of anger and directed it at the doll. The anger sizzled as I thought of Atkin, of the racist pigs back home, of anyone that had caused me or my friends heartache…

Soon I felt intertwined with the girl's heated up sentiments…which gave me a surge of surprising bliss and hope. My gaze switched back to the girl and I tilted my head, trying to comprehend the strong and stubborn expression, trying to analyse ti and come up with an explanatory sentence of what she would be thinking. I looked back forth from the tight-lipped girl, to the discarded and disgraced doll…

I'd be thinking…_bad dolly?_

No…

I thought back to when I was a kid and tried to remember what it was like for me, getting angry at a doll and throwing it to the ground, and then yelling at it…what caused that anger? (Don't you just love it when your inner thoughts sound like a shrink's probing?)

Chewing on my lip, I thought carefully and very slowly. 

I made a face as I came up with a blank. I couldn't relate to a kid of five…not anymore! But then…

_Well,_ I suddenly thought,_ you don't have to think like someone to relate to them…you just have to understand them…so…_

Resettling my gaze on the girl, I licked my dry and crack lips, and had another go. She was obviously infuriated with the doll as she kicked it around. I didn't have to bother using what I knew of my "powers" to get what the two keywords of her thoughts were. But I did anyway…

…"_stupid"… "boring"_

So the little girl was bored, and was blaming it on the "stupid" doll…alright. I glowered at the doll as the girl had, and cursed at it with simple kiddish talk. _Stupid doll! Why you so boring?_

I stuck to that mood of thought and tried over and over again to probe more than "stupid" and "boring" out of the girl's mind. Thoughts…I needed to read her thoughts…

After five unsuccessful and surprisingly tiring tries, I was ready to give up. Why in God's name wasn't it working? I wasn't asking much! Just the chance to…well, spy on other people's business? That sounded horrible, so I sighed and averted my eyes from the now-yawning girl. She was about ready to go home. For a nap probably.

That was when the Prince burst out of the inn, indicating it was finally safe for me to get in, the guards having cleared out. I nodded. My stomach growled, and that reminded me of food, which the inn would supply. About to turn around, I yawned just as the girl did…and suddenly, I heard it loud and clear.

_"Hope mummy's made somethin' real special t'eat t'night…"_

I gasped and shook my head, closed my eyes, and then reopened them. But the girl was gone…her voice had sounded so innocent, so hopeful…it saddened me. The sadness didn't last long though…it was overshadowed by pure ecstasy…_I'd done it! _

I'd read the girl's mind!

I'd led myself into her thoughts by…what had I done? I'd practically did what she'd done…yawned as she had. I was in the same thought-cloud as she'd been. She'd been hungry as I had…she'd been sleepy as I had…so all I really had to do was put myself in the person's shoes/position? Well maybe not necessarily, but keep the same frame of mind? Adopt their feelings and emotions?

It couldn't _possibly_ be that easy!

But it _hadn't _been!

I can't _always_ stay in the same mind frame as other people…especially if I couldn't see them! But I could guess, couldn't I? With Atkin, couldn't I just vent out my anger and place a scowl on my face, as he always did when he saw me? Or…

I sighed and shook my head, content for now with how far I'd come. I was grateful for at least having had a breakthrough, no matter how slight and possibly insignificant it was…

Roald was gazing at me strangely. 'You alright?' he asked softly, probably at my dazed expression.

I nodded and smiled. 'Yup, let's go.'

Turning to look back one last time at the vacant spot under the shadowing tree, my smile widened and I sighed with satisfaction before stepping into the inn.

Roald came in a few minutes after I did, to keep it inconspicuous, just in case Atkin's cronies—_ex-­­­­_cronies were out and about. Which I'm sure they were. When he did come in, we avoided each other…not too obviously, of course. I slid him a bored look as the rest did when he entered, but nothing more. I just ordered a tankard of ale and gazed at it, looking as jaded as I could.

As we'd planned, he went over to the landlord and struck up a friendly conversation, which then moved on quietly to questions about a mysterious lad Roald was looking for. He owed him a fair bit of money, and Roald wasn't one to especially like overdue payments.

The landlord at first was reluctant to give out such "personal" information about a fellow guest, but when Roald prompted him with shiny coins, he forgot all about respect of privacy and told him there was such a person as described in the first room to Roald's left if he took that flight of stairs.

The Prince nodded his thanks and shut the now-bubbly landlord with an extra coin, then had a drink before going up to check up on our beloved Atkin. I looked at my drink purposefully, feeling sick now as I took in its seemingly grotesque, dark form…I couldn't drink that. Not now, not ever…not for some stupid scumbag who didn't know any better than not to interfere with royalties…

Throwing up seemed a necessity rather than a possibility then, but Roald's dominant plan stuck in my revolving mind and I found myself grasping the handle of the tankard…and then my lips touching the edge of it…

My hand shook, and I put down the tankard, pretending to swallow as I fought to gain control of the shaking. My gaze remained uninterested in anything but my ale. I was burning on the inside, memories of mum, drunk and crazy…coming home late and throwing tantrums…collapsed in her bedroom…empty bottles of vodka everywhere around the house…bills mounting up…money dwindling…

_Oh God, _I thought, fighting back the urge to sob as hard as I could.

I grit my teeth and turned to swipe a gaze around the crowded, noisy tavern. I could do this. I knew I could…I just had to relax. Get into the rhythm of things…forget my past for a while…

_Yeah, that's worked so well for you the past few years, hasn't it?_

I pushed back the negative thought and struck up a conversation with a drunk-looking tough sailor. His ragged features were a put off, his beefy muscles even more so…and his expression the most off putting of them all. Drunk and ready to explode.

'I've noticed strange things,' I barked to him as he blabbed more and more about his sailing-wise life. I had to put on the best guy voice I could muster, and really, I couldn't embarrass myself any worse. At least I passed as a squeaky teenaged boy. An excuse for the slightly-girly looks and pinched voice.

'I'd say so too, friend,' was the grunted reply as Ulnar, that was his name, slurped down some ale.

'What think you of it then?' I growled, taking the handle of my tankard again and taking a deep, silent breath before letting the strong liquid slide down my throat. I nearly coughed it all out, but I maintained my drunken pose for the sailor to go on with his rant.

'I dis…dislike all eese… h-hap'nins,' he whined. 'A fellow can't…can't…what's th'word? Oh yes…get druh-drunk… 'n' be left at peace 'nymore! Ye be,'—hiccup—'hunted down fer acc—accu…sations all day 'n' night! Can't get me a wink of sleep wi'out someone,'—another hiccup—'houndin' me wit' questions o' this  and 'at…they be searchin' fer blabbers! 'N' I sure ain't…o-one.'

I grunted. 'Course not! Who be they, friend?'

Another big swig of beer before I get a quarter-coherent reply. 'Them…_fiends o' th'streets!'_

'Gangs, eh?' 

He nodded with obvious disgust and hatred. 'I know…I know all 'bout 'em! But I sure ain't one t'blab, see…yes…yes…'

'Would ye help a poor friend out then?'

The sailor nodded again, staring dizzily at his empty tankard. I bought him another and went on with my "request". 'I haven't been 'round long 'nuff…'n' ain't half as experienced as ye are…what do ye know of 'em so's I may per'tect m'self?'

Not very reluctantly as he'd thought he'd be, he described the different gangs…

Notorious Shaft (I didn't bother to ask why in God's name a gang would want a name like _that_) was the leading gang; the leader supposedly was as infamous as one could get. Not a single street rat, sailor or merchant was unaware to who he was. He was known as the Shaft. Obviously not too creative, but hey, that didn't stop him from, as Ulnar mentioned, destroying houses and stalls and such he thought conspired against the gang.

Kinda like Bush against alleged terrorist groups.

No real evidence, but hey! Who doesn't dig destruction?

The rest of the fifteen gangs around the city and villages were rather insignificant compared to the power N.S held, but they still had some control. I didn't realize how a single gang could have such a huge impact and dominate such a huge and diverse city…it awed me really. But I listened on. 

N.S meet up every last day of every week, and report their slowly growing restrain and power over the large city and various villages. They've already influenced many conservatives and nobles, enticing them into their radical plans and dragging them in, until the nobles could do nothing but go along. Treason's very easily sabotaged, was the reason.

Where did they meet up? At this very inn. Tomorrow at midnight.

Before I could ask what the leader looked like, he fell head-first onto the bench and began the cycle of bothering everyone with his strenuous, loud snoring. I cringed and edged away, then swayed unsteadily as I got up, pretended to walk drunkenly, and carried myself out of the inn, where I threw up the ale I'd forced down my throat.

Atkin had left apparently, ditched all his stuff in his room at the inn, and left like the cowardly scum he was. I was enraged. But not too badly enraged. We didn't need him…well we needed him still, just not _as_ much. We got info on the baddies…all we needed now was the proof to bust them and get me out of this jam. That's all. No heroics. No fighting. Just get the proof, get out, become a free woman again, and all is sweet. Roald had probably already taken care of Atkin anyway…he'd certainly taken long enough in the guy's room…must have kicked a whole lot of booty…

I couldn't stand my near-to-filthy room…it was small and musty. I had to get out, so I told Roald I was taking a breather, and stepped out of the inn the back-way. Gratefully sucking in fresh air, I sat down on a nearby barrel and relaxed. I let the wind blow my tangled hair away from my face, and closed my eyes. Carelessness overwhelmed me and for a few moments, I forgot I was, _sort of_, on the run, with no money, only a dagger for a weapon, and no friends to honestly trust but the Prince.

A yawn escaped me, and I felt extremely tired, so I slackened my muscles and just let go of the tension that had wrapped me for the last few days. Last weeks, last months, last year…last five years.

Memories of dad washed over me…his smile. His sweet, soft smile…the caring look in his eyes as he greeted me afterschool, ready to take me back home after a soccer match for the very junior juniors…always there for me. Always…

Mum pushing me down the stairs after she'd drank her last bottle of vodka…promising me she'd pay the bills…electricity being switched off…promising she'd be there for me…looking at the cheering crowd at soccer but finding no familiar, loving faces…promising to look after me…never any food in the fridge…promising to love me…a quiet house the never-changing greeting afterschool…

Khalil.

Amazing, loving smile…caring, adoring eyes…tingling belief in me…never-ebbing faith and love…astounding understanding of my fears, emotions and thoughts…undying l—

A hand clasped my mouth firmly, too firmly, hurting my mouth. Another hand was tightened around my waist, securing me in place. My legs were free, but they were dangling over the edge of the barrel. Fluent and uninterrupted movements ended with my hands being tied formidably behind my back.

'If you make a single sound, attract an _ant's_ attention, I'll kill your charming prince so fast, you won't have time to utter a single fuckin' scream you loud-mouthed bitch.'

My blood seethed at the sound of that grating, nasal voice. I grumbled 'Atkin' into the kerchief he tied about my mouth, but my tongue hurt from the exhausting attempt, so I just shut up. Atkin pushed me off the barrel none-too-gently and I fell to the ground, head-first. Blood seemed to pump leisurely in my head and then it went completely numb.  Then spun. Then I blinked and groaned…and saw the Prince, unconscious and strewn behind a discarded barrel. 

Atkin kicked at my stomach and swore fervently before turning to Roald and unsheathing his sword. 

I shivered and felt myself bit by bit slip into bogus blissful unconsciousness, but not before I grit my teeth, took a deep breath, dragged myself closer, built the strength to push myself behind a full barrel, and then push it with all I could with the soles of my feet in the direction of the crazy noble.

'That's for fuckin' up my life three times the amount it was already fucked up!' I screamed throatily, and then slumped onto the floor…desperately praying the barrel had crashed into the anxiously anticipated place. Or person…


	25. Chap 25

A/N: Yes, I'm alive! (yay for some, boo for the rest :P) Sorry I haven't updated in *blinks* months…*cringe* but school's just finished! (YAY, YR 9 IS OFFICIALLY OVER PEEPS) So I have time to write endlessly. This chap is –nearly- done. Just needs a bit more creativity, and it's ready! Here's a little snippet!

**_Last Straw_**

A groan escaped my lips as I very slowly came to in the backstreet of the inn. Before I was able to drag my eyes open, I heard similar groans start up near me. I felt completely nauseated. As soon as I sat up, I winced as the tight rope around my hand moved in its place and cut into rubbed, raw skin. I couldn't do anything but blink painful tears away and get my bearings straight.

After the dizziness quit disrupting my vision, and I was able to move around less sorely, I looked about me.

_Roald!_ I thought in a sudden frenzied panic.

My eyes flew to the two figures laying next to me; one was too quickly coming to. Careful not to curse too loudly, I dragged myself onto my feet quietly, and slowly approached the aching figure on the rough ground. Again, I grimaced as the rope tugged at my sensitive wrists. I held them up painfully when I stood over Atkin's awakening form, and allowed the hatred and disgust that had been welling up in me take control as I swiftly brought the scrunched-up back of my fists against his exposed head. It was the sensitive and softest part of the back of his head that I threw my energy at, since that was the easiest way of knocking an assaulter out cold in an emergency. It bought a few moments so the victim could escape.

Grunting with satisfaction, but flinching with the pain that tore through my wrists, I watched Atkin plummet to the ground in a disgruntled, ungraceful fall. With my feet—my hands being literally tied up at that moment—I padded his waist carefully until I felt a dagger's scabbard. I then went down on my knees and with my bound hands, cupped the revealed dagger. To finish off, I gripped the hilt with my teeth and attempted to neatly cut into the middle of the rope, in between my wrists.

It took a few, long, scrutinisingly unsuccessful tries before I brought my battle to a halt when an oblique shadow fell on me. Cursing, I whirled around, expecting a fight. 

But it was only Roald.

I let out a breath of obvious relief as the Prince took the dagger out of my mouth and held out my hands. He then professionally—unlike _my_ sloppy tries—slashed at the binding, constricting rope…cutting it true.

As the rope fell to the ground soundlessly, I sighed again and relaxed, rubbing at my aching joints to get the blood flowing freely again. When the throbbing ebbed to a mild distraction, I gave Roald a quizzical glance.

'What do we do now?' I whispered, motioning towards the lying, unconscious body of Atkin.

'Go on with our plan,' Roald said emphatically. I envied his cool and professional stamina…the composed way he thought, reacted and behaved in such a  serious situation like this. I felt childish, an _amateur _really, standing here looking and feeling as useless and out of place as meat in a vegetarian meal.

Everything I did added to the mess—_my_ mess.

I nodded numbly at the Prince and turned to Atkin. My weak punch to his head hadn't been too effective. The bastard was regaining consciousness, _again_…

Moving towards him again, I grabbed the dagger off Roald, sat on the noble's chest firmly, and held the sharp end of the weapon against his bare neck. As soon as his eyes showed the signs of fluttering open, I dug in the soles of my feet into ground, so he wouldn't throw me off balance.

I smiled sinisterly to greet him into the world of the Awake. 'Hello, Atkin,' I purred as he groggily opened his eyes and settled them on me. I pressed the blade a tad too hard into his skin, and he immediately tensed. 'Are you willing to co-operate, or will I have to kill you to gain a bit of respect?'


End file.
